Senses

Summary: A short fix-it fic. Considering the high emotion and high stakes, Superman would be on high alert. It also helps that Superman doesn't actually need to see a bomb to locate it.

A/N: There were, admittedly, many things wrong with this movie (which I will not go into), but I feel this scene in particular I could not ignore.


Hovering above the Capitol, he took a moment to collect himself. He needed to be calm and collected without appearing stiff or impersonal when he answered their questions and explained things from his point of view. This was his chance to show the world who he wanted to be and what he wanted to be to them.

He allowed his senses to glide over and through the crowds below, both the supporters and protestors, taking in their heartbeats and endless chatter intermingled with curses and chants before turning his face to the sun. With a deep breath, he finally descended and stood at the foot of the Capitol stairs before walking up like anyone else called to a committee hearing.

He walked, keeping his pace even and steady as he passed people who stopped and stared. A few hurriedly got out of his way, even though they were not directly in his path. They really did fear him and it pained him.

He reached the already open double doors, which closed behind him as he entered. All speech within instantly fell silent.

He continued forward, gently opening the hinged divider, and stopped behind the defendant's post. To his right was Wallace Keefe and his team of representatives. Keefe, he noted, was in a new wheelchair with suit pants neatly tucked in where his legs should have continued but did not. On the other was another set of official individuals.

"Let me say at the outset that I am grateful to our witness for coming before us today," Senator Finch said, starting immediately. "This is how a democracy works. We talk to each other. We act by the consent of the governed, sir. I have sat here before to say that shadow interventions will not be tolerated by this Committee."

Superman slowly breathed in, his nose detecting all of the perfumes, deodorants, body odors and colognes he had come accustomed to in crowds, but then two somethings caught the attention of his olfactory nerves.

Urine. Intense, gathered urine.

Surely someone did not just wet themselves?

No. It wasn't fresh. And that was both reassuring and disgusting.

But then there was another scent.

Something that did not belong with people, or at least non-military people.

Explosive. High grade explosive.

"Neither will lies," Finch continued, oblivious to Superman's growing alarm. "Because today is a day for truth. Because only by speaking…"

Superman stretched out his senses, hearing her sudden spike in heart rate, as if suddenly surprised. Why?

He x-rayed the committee table, finding an odd glass jar filled with . . . .

What?

'GRANNY'S PEACH TEA' was written on a sheet of paper taped to the glass surface closest to him.

It most definitely was not tea.

The witnesses and observers behind him shifted uncertainly in their seats, no doubt wondering why Finch had paused.

"Only by working . . . together, can we . . . can we . . . can we. . . ."

Something was very wrong here.

He extended his hearing and inhaled deeply, drawing the attention of everyone around him by the visible and audible action.

The explosive was close. He turned his head, scanning with his eyes. A grey void. Lead. Underneath Keefe's wheelchair.

His ears zeroed in on that box. The faint buzz of electronics, too busy to be simple controls for the chair, echoed ominously.

"Can we create a free and a. . . ." Finch trailed off again and turned the jar as he moved.

He blurred to Keefe, gently removed him from the chair and placed him on the floor at super-speed. He then grabbed the entire chair, moved to where he had been standing, and x-rayed the entire path straight above him.

It was clear.

He had to get it out as fast as he could. Traveling out of the building the way he had come in felt extremely risky, especially when he felt he had very little time.

Ignoring the gasps his movement and actions had caused, he shot up, careful to only break the ceiling where no debris would fall on anyone while holding the chair under him so it wouldn't strike anything and explode prematurely. He shattered the floors and ceilings overhead and broke out of the roof of the Capitol. As soon as he was clear, he placed the chair above him and didn't stop, wanting to put as much distance as he could between the bomb and the people below.

He didn't get as far as he would have liked.

Even though he used his body to block as much of the blast as he could from reaching the ground, the concussion from the explosion rocked the air and was seen from miles away. It was heard even further.

The blast was more powerful than any man-made thing he had felt before. Tank missiles had nothing on this. He was forced down, and only last second directional flight saved him from catastrophically crashing back down into the Capitol Building. As it was, he still struck the stone path at the foot of the Capitol stairs and tore across it a good ten feet before coming to a stop. Thankfully he didn't hit anyone.

His uniform was smoking but intact. The crowds were screaming and above the Capitol was a mass of smoke, flame, and ash extending up and out.

He just laid there for a moment as he realized a humbling truth. If he hadn't gotten that chair out when he had and as he had, the whole Capitol Building would have been affected and that entire section would have been decimated. A lot of people would have died.

Slowly, he sat up, noticing a number of police who had begun to approach him.

"Are you . . . are you okay, Superman?" an officer asked, looking down at him.

"Yes. Thank you." He pressed his hand flat against the ground before levitating to his feet, causing the dust and pebbles to float slightly before scattering back down.

Everyone watching stared in awe, even those who had been chanting against him.

"I'm going back inside," he stated, before doing just that, vanishing in a blur.

O o O

The following hours and days were chaotic to say the least. The entire event had been live on international television. Everyone had seen Superman's actions and how they had saved hundreds of people, not to mention one of American's most important buildings.

Lex Luthor was arrested.

The evidence against him was massive. Everything from the glass jar, literally, full of his genetic material (most definitely ew) to his hand in providing Keefe the wheelchair, it was utterly damning. Other investigations followed and unveiled several other conspiracies, all traced back to Luthor, including frightening work on Kryptonian technology and the body of General Zod.

Luthor would be executed two years later for the murders he committed and much of the dark work he had his fingers in would be obliterated before that time.

Batman held back his initial plans of confronting Superman and decided a more sensible route: talking. That action would give birth to the Justice League.

Following the Luthor fiasco, Superman actively began working with the nations of the world and established better relations by becoming more personable and reachable. He bore the symbol of hope, it was time he started acting like it. He would give humanity an ideal to strive for and, together, they would accomplish wonders.

And so, because Superman decided to use his senses, a senseless, dark path was completely avoided and Earth became a beacon of hope in the galaxy.

-The End-