Ch. 76 – Distraction Pt. 6

August 27, 2010 - Gotham City, NJ 

Gotham Sewers 

06:21:07 

“Uh…hey fellas, can we talk about this?” 

The answer came in the form of the Clayface duplicate masquerading as Ms. Martian launching a limb shaped like a battering ram out of its chest which hit Superboy with the force of a speeding semi-truck. He twisted to keep the unconscious Aqualass cradled in his arms protected, shielding her with his own body. The force knocked him off his feet and smashed him into the chamber wall in a crater a foot deep. Then the attacking limb retracted back into the Martian doppelganger like a snake resetting after a strike while the fearsome foursome chuckled in stereo. No matter what form it came from, the voice that came out was unmistakably Clayface’s bestial one. 

“No more talking!” The duplicates growled and each began to shift into disturbing fusions of the shapes of his team and Clayface’s own sedimentary form. Each kept the broken, monstrous grin but also shifted their limbs into unnatural weapons. The duplicate masquerading as Kid Quick turned its hands into hefty yellow hammers while its arms gave up pretending to have bones and became sinuous tentacles. Then the one cast in the role of Robin bulked up its upper body, making her appearance look roided out and top heavy, while shifting its fists into clay colored lumps covered in spikes. Finally, the one playing Ms. Martian retracted the girthy limb into its chest, and then sprouted four more arms from its torso at asymmetrical angles, giving it six arms in total. 

Superboy glanced back at the Clayface he had been talking down, to find him still in Aqualass’ form though the details were beginning to droop and run as he lost focus on his appearance. The familiar face was twisted in shock and horror as it watched the others advance towards them, frozen in place. His reaction appeared genuine, and they had been building a rapport. Hefting his burden, he looked at his options and decided to bet on trust. 

“Hagen!” Superboy shouted, and the villain finally looked at him. “Take care of her! I’ll deal with them… you… whatever!” He added before thrusting Aqualass into Clayface’s arms, and prayed he wasn’t making a mistake as the villain caught his teammate. Then he whirled on the advancing duplicates and charged. 

He hadn’t gotten a dozen steps toward them when a pair of yellow hammerhands whipped toward him, whistling as they cut through the air. He ducked the first one but the second hammered home into his chest, blasting out the air in his lungs with a bruising impact. He glanced at the grinning, ghoulish face of the duplicate he mentally dubbed Kid Clay and snapped a knife hand chop at the ‘wrist’ of the limb that hit him, and his hand slashed messily through the clay. Severed, the hammer hand fell to the ground with a splat, losing color and cohesion the second it was separated. Kid Clay gave an inhuman shriek, but it was more in surprise than pain.

Then he was forced to lean his head back to let a spiked club of an arm miss him by millimeters as the duplicate he dubbed Clay Pigeon swung and missed, but then its left arm came swinging in low. Superboy twisted inside Clay Pigeon’s reach and clamped an arm down around the spiked limb, reaching out his other to catch the follow up punch from the villain’s other limb. His fingers sank into the clay and Superboy didn’t hesitate to use all of his strength, making the trapped limbs bulge like a toothpaste tube being crushed. Clay Pigeon’s snaggle toothed maw opened with a roar into his face that splattered him with flecks of clay, which made him grimace. In retaliation, he pulled with all his might and tore both hardened spike club arms off the villainous duplicate, casting them aside. 

“HA!” he cried in triumph, a bit perturbed that Clay Pigeon didn’t react to what would have been a devastating injury on a normal human. Instead the clay construct looked down at his severed limbs and then back up at Superboy. Then he lowered his head and it launched itself at Superboy like a rocket, the hair hardening into a shiny helmet. The hardened dome struck like a bullet and headbutted Superboy in the face, knocking him back again. He saw stars and shook his head to clear them, just in time for a nightmare of green arms to reach out for him with fingers that writhed like seaweed fronds in the ocean currents. 

Fingers like tentacles attached to arms like serpents wrapped all around him and he struggled with all his might against their crushing grip. Fingers and arms tore off in his struggles but new ones kept forming to add to the grapple. Each time he tore one of the truncated limbs off, two or more new limbs sprouted like a tree branch growing in fast forward. The pressure began to crush him, and he could feel his ribs creak as the duplicate he dubbed Ms. Mineral clapped a massive hand over his face and finger tendrils began wrapping around his eyes and ears, blinding and deafening him as he struggled.  Superboy struggled to keep his feet as the cage of grasping hands squeezed him like fruit for the juice, and the pain made him scream. But the sound was muffled by the clay covering his face. Then came a pair of hammer blows from Kid Clay on his back that sent him staggering forward, further in Ms. Mineral’s embrace. He was no longer able to tear an arm free, so he elected to switch tactics and go with a classic move. 

Gathering his strength he leapt straight up and braced himself. The weight and strength of Ms Mineral was pitted against the power in his legs and his legs won. He launched upwards, feeling the clay limbs holding him stretch to their utmost and break, slowing his ascent but not enough to keep him from smashing into the ceiling. Superboy was blinded by clay so didn’t see the ceiling about to hit him, so it was a surprise when it did. Thankfully the clay covering him had lost its cohesion and motive power when it tore from Ms. Mineral, so most of it splattered across the ceiling and off of him, just as planned.  

Clay splattered off him as he crashed into the ceiling, spraying across the broken brickwork, at least enough for him to see and hear. Seeing his foes arrayed below him, he aimed his body like a bolt from heaven  as gravity dragged him down. Spying the best target, he repeated his meteor smash on Ms. Mineral. He felt a pang of unease as his fists came down toward her emerald face, but the mouth that nearly split her in half disabused him of any familiarity. This time the hammer blows of his fists hitting the clay duplicate blasted her apart even more forcefully than when he had done it to the singular Clayface. .

“One down, two to go!” He shouted at the remaining duplicates, who roared and charged undaunted. Superboy sidestepped a yellow hammer hand from Kid Clay falling at him, then had to duck a spiked club arm from Clay Pigeon. Throwing a snap kick at Kid Clay’s ankle, his foot carved through the clay and separated the duplicate from its foot, causing it to list to the left before it stamped its stump down and formed an elephantine appendage instead. A tan hammer came flying in from the other direction and caught him across the jaw, snapping his head back and rocking him back.  Clay Pigeon went on the attack and threw a blistering rain of punches at Superboy, who put up his guard to protect his head as the spiked clubs at the end of the dupe’s arms hammered into his arms with bruising force while hardened spikes snapped off with each blow but new ones sprouted in their place. 

Gritting his teeth, Superboy spied Kid Clay coming around behind him and combining both its stretch hammer arms into one massive mallet, and cocked it back to smash him in the back. Seeing a chance to turn the fight around, he timed Clay Pigeon’s next strike and grabbed the dupe by the elbow. Entering the flow state where the programmed martial arts in his head responded to his will was so much easier now. He slipped the punch and caught the arm below where the spikes were, turned and twisted his hips while he yanked with all his considerable might. His feet were planted and his strength was enough that he lifted the heavy clay duplicate over his shoulder and hurled it into the other one. Clay Pigeon went sailing into Kid Clay and the two didn’t impact so much as splat together.  

What were two distinct humanoid forms splashed together in a confusing milieu of colors, brightly colored costumes mixed in with tan clay, like the world’s strangest marble cake. The conglomerate was now twice the size and growing as the loose clay spread all over that was the former Ms. Mineral flowed toward it. Superboy took a cautious step back as the combined construct swelled and ballooned in size, its legs growing stout and elephantine while its torso became massive. Two trunk-like arms reformed, one with a metallic looking iron claw and the other a spiked hammer like a meat tenderizer.  

Worst of all were its heads, plural. 

The tan torso had streaks of all three heroes’ costumes in it, but it sprouted three heads on sinuous necks. Superboy shuddered in horror at the grotesque parodies of his friends’ faces opened massive maws of broken teeth and roared at him as the combined construct stalked forward. It swung its thick arms and he was forced to dodge the hammer blow that came down, then duck beneath a claw swipe that almost took his head off.  

“What have I become?” Superboy heard, and he glanced back at what he thought of as the ‘real’ Clayface. The villain had retreated back down the tunnel, looking exactly like the unconscious Aqualass in his arms. He was staring in abject horror at the rest of him and the nightmare chimera it had formed. Superboy could practically see the despair making the protean villain droop like melting ice cream. 

Righteous anger filled Superboy as he looked back and forth at the despondent man and the rampaging creature. 

The man and the monster.  

He’s not the ‘real’ Clayface. They’re both Clayface.  

Superboy ducked another clawswipe even as he rushed forward to get out of the way of another hammer blow. As he closed the heads shot forward, trying to smash him with hardened skulls. He punched one after another out of his way, hardened head shells cracking beneath the blows and spinning away. 

“This isn’t who you are, Hagen!” He shouted, the anger at what the man had suffered and what his path had led him to boiling over. “You don’t have to be this! Whatever the League did to you, we can help you. I know you can keep it together. Its hard but you can do it, you’re already doing it. You have to stop this, Matthew!” 

The rational part of Clayface shook his head, tears of clay running down Aqualass face as he denied Superboy's words.  

“I can’t! It hurts so much. I can hear the master’s command. I have to destroy Batwoman. But I don’t want to! I don’t want to hurt anyone!” He cried out, falling to his knees, still cradling the unconscious Atlantean. “I just wanted to be me, again…” 

Superboy turned back to say more but that was when the rampaging Clayface abandoned its form and flowed forward like a wave, losing all cohesion and crashing over him. Everything went dark and he felt the liquid form of Clayface encapsulating him. He struggled but he was swept off his feet and it felt like he was tumbling in ocean waves, unable to get his bearings. Worse, tendrils of clay were working themselves up his nostrils and into his mouth. His struggles redoubled and he ripped handfuls of clay away from his mouth, but every time he did, more clay just flowed in to replace it. 

It will take a long time for me to suffocate but he can probably hurt me faster on the inside, Superboy thought darkly. His heartrate spiked and he pawed his way forward, whatever direction forward was, as the liquid clay around him squeezed and battered, flowed and tumbled. Panic began to seep in as he feared he wouldn’t reach the surface. He refused to go down like this, no matter what. Not while he could help someone in need. Finally, he broke the surface and hocked up clay and shouted at Hagen. 

“Then pretend you are!” He spat out before the protean clay tried to drag him back down. But he kicked and tore at it to free himself, just his head and shoulders above the surface. “You’ve been playing roles your whole life. You don’t have to be alright all the time, but play the role. That’s how you can keep yourself together! But you can’t let part of you run amok, Hagen. The monster is a role al Ghul put you in, don’t let it define you. You choose the mask you wear!” 

That was the last thing he shouted before tendrils of clay dragged him back down into the lightless depths. He kicked and punched but it was useless, the clay ocean he was sinking into just kept tumbling him around, wasting his energy. He clapped a hand over his mouth and nose but it was useless, any gap let the clay slide in and soon it was forcing its way in. He could feel it crawling down his throat and into his lungs, which began to burn with the lack of oxygen and the intrusion. Superboy realized he could hold his breath far longer than this, and the clay must be absorbing the oxygen in his lungs. 

Cold fear shot through him, and he tried to struggle harder but he was weakening. Kicking and clawing was useless, and his mind began to grow dim. He moved slower, his thrashing getting weaker, even as panic rose. The flow state abandoned him, and he felt himself grow heavier, like he was falling asleep. He was tired and battered, and sleeping felt like a great idea… 

Suddenly he could breathe again and the dim light of the chamber was around him. Superboy fell to his knees and coughed, flecks of clay accompanying each wracking cough. He caught his breath and looked up to see Hagen standing next to the amorphous ball of clay that had been his prison.  

Hagen wasn’t wearing Aqualass’ shape anymore, but his own. Or at least, what had been his shape. He looked like the picture Superboy had seen of him in Marrakesh; a lean, blonde man in a track suit and trenchcoat, a plastic medical mask covering most his face. He could see angry red lines of scars where the mask didn’t cover, but it was of a piece with Hagen’s face. The edges flowed together like melted wax, along with other details of his ‘clothing.’ One arm had stretched and grown to merge with the ball of clay, and Hagen was slowly absorbing it, making it shrink. 

Eventually, he absorbed it all and sucked in a deep breath, head down. Superboy rose warily, tense with anticipation that it was another trick. But Hagen turned and walked over to a nearby pool of water and crouched down, reaching up to touch his face. 

“I couldn’t… make myself whole again.” Hagen said in a voice raw with pain, tracing lines across his mask. “Its not up here, anymore.” He finished tapping his temple. The villain was suddenly calm, weighed down with the burden of his pain. He was staring into the pool of water, looking at his own twisted reflection. 

“Some scars go too deep.” Superboy said, his own voice raw with emotion and the abrasion of having animated clay forced down it. 

Hagen nodded, sniffling. He looked up at Superboy with wet eyes. 

“Will I ever… be okay again? Hagen asked in a quiet voice. Superboy crossed over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. The clay of his form rippled at the touch but Superboy refused to react, and just lent a comforting touch. 

“You probably won’t ever be what you were. But that doesn’t have to define you. You decide what okay looks like from now on. We’ll help you, I promise.” He swore, giving Hagen a firm grip. The man nodded, sadly, but there was something besides tears in his eyes now. 

Hope. 

“What…” Aqualass said as she struggled up from where she lay in the tunnel. 

“Aqualass!” Superboy shouted as he ran over to her and helped her sit up while she cradled her head. 

“What happened?” She asked as she blinked to clear her eyes, finally focusing on Superboy before darting to Hagen’s kneeling form. Her hand snapped toward her water bearer but Superboy caught it. 

“Its okay. Its over. He’s done.” Superboy explained as they both looked at Hagen, who cowered slightly at the intensity in Aqualass glare. She looked at Superboy questioningly. 

“Truly?” 

“Yeah. I was right. He didn’t want to do this. The League did it to him, all of it.” 

“What of the rest of the team?” Aqualass asked urgently. 

“They’re back there.” Hagen pointed toward a tunnel to their left. “Pretty far in. Trapped in my clay. They’ll be… fine.” He promised, but Aqualass looked doubtful.  

“Hey, he did the same to you. But you were fine. The League really messed with his head. They sent him to-” 

Superboy cut off as he heard the familiar discharge of a grapnel gun, and in a panic he reached for the flow state and disappeared in a red-blue blur. Everything moved in slow motion as he dashed out of the tunnel and saw a black clad Batwoman swinging down from a higher tunnel, her right hand encased in a blue and white gauntlet with a familiar metallic ray gun in its fist, while her left swung from a grapnel. Hagen was only just beginning to turn his head towards the sound, and panic filled him as he realized what was about to happen. Deciding that tonight had enough excitement, he leapt toward Batwoman and caught her by the waist and aimed his jump toward another tunnel. 

He landed as Batwoman folded around his arm and dashed down the tunnel before a burning strain filled his body and he had to release the flow and his speed. He cradled Batwoman’s head, just as Kid Quick had instructed him he should, as she suddenly decelerated from his super speed mid air grab. The instant his speed ended she reacted like a viper and the freezing cold barrel of Captain Cold’s freeze ray was pressed against his temple. 

“What are you doing?” Batwoman growled as Superboy froze, shocked at her ability to react so fast to someone with super speed. He held his hands up, authentically afraid of the Caped Crusader as she held a super science gun to his head. He thought fast and spoke faster. 

“I talked Clayface down! Its like I said it was, the League of Assassins did this to him and they sent him here to kill you and if he sees you again he’s probably gonna freak out and go all Manchurian candidate on you and I didn’t want to waste all that hard work for a climactic fight.” He spat out, his voice still accelerated at the beginning but slowed down to a normal speed before he finished.

Batwoman stared at him for a long beat, the freeze gun still pressed to his temple, before she pulled it away and stepped back, the blank white eyes of her cowl pinning him down like searchlights. 

“Your dossier on Clayface, cobbled together from what you read in your ‘Batman’s’ comic books and rumors you scraped from the internet, plus a half hour of research with Guild intelligence resources, gave you a complete enough profile of Matt Hagen to talk him down from a League of Assassin’s hypnotically conditioned kill mission.” She said, flatly, and Superboy felt his scalp prickle with anxiety as the thing he most feared in his new life seemed about to happen. Sensing the pause was for him to answer, he went with the first thing that came into his head as he imagined Batwoman shanking him with a kryptonite shiv.

“Yeeesss?” He replied, drawing the affirmative up into a question. That earned him a single raised brow from Batwoman that he breathlessly wondered how she managed through the cowl. She let the silence hang for another drawn out moment before she spoke.

“Good job.”

Superboy’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Really?”

Batwoman stared at him for what he was beginning to realize was her signature uncomfortably long pause.

“Unless there’s a reason you’re not telling me why that is not an accurate summation of events?” She asked, almost casually, and Superboy felt a flush go through him. He forced down his nerves and answered as calmly as he could.

“No.”

“Then we’re done here.” She said simply, holstering the freeze ray and taking off the bulky white gauntlet. “Retrieve the others and I’ll have a team from GCPD and Arkham ready to receive Hagen.”

“Arkham?” Superboy asked, his own worries flying in the face of concern for Hagen.

“He attacked Wayne Industries, injured a dozen security guards and police officers, caused several million in property damage, and fought Robin and I, as well as the team. Before that, he willingly joined the League of Assassins. Hagen has to answer for the things he chose to do, but you have my word he will get the best help we can provide.” Batwoman answered smoothly, and relief flooded Superboy.

God, I thought she was going to lock him up and throw away the key, he thought, looking her up and down. Batwoman had a constant electric tension to her, and he had thought it would relax now that she knew Clayface was neutralized. But she didn’t relent at all; she was as tightly wound and perfectly controlled as she had been while swinging in on the grapnel with the freeze ray.

But she wants to get Hagen help. Maybe she’s not so scary.

He blew a sigh of relief and turned to look out the tunnel at the confused Hagen and Aqualass. 

“I was worried you…” He trailed off, before turning back to see the empty tunnel behind him.

“Huh. So that’s how that feels. Rude.”