The press room at the United Nations was silent. Cameras hummed. Every seat was full. Every screen on Earth showed the same image.
Superman walked to the podium alone. His cape was clean but his face was bruised. The swelling around his eye had gone down. The dark skin remained. He did not hide it.
He held the edges of the podium. He looked at the cameras.
"Three days ago, the Justice League fought in Manhattan. We won.
... homelander and vought international is gone, The threat of humanity is gone. But during that battle, we learned something. We are not ready."
He stopped. No one in the room breathed.
"We were made to protect Earth from threats no single nation could stop. We stopped an alien invasion. We stopped a demonic attack.
But we became something we did not plan. A symbol of fear. A weapon pointed at governments and people we rescue, even we right."
He stood taller.
"Effective now, the Justice League is disbanded."
The room exploded. Reporters shouted. Flashbulbs fired. Superman raised one hand. The room went silent again.
" Mr Clark, is justice league will not do any rescue operation from now on! "
"We will no longer work as an organization. We will no longer use the Watchtower as a base. We will no longer enter international affairs. Each member will return to their own life, If the world needs saving again, it must find someone else."
He stepped back from the podium.
He walked off the stage. Diana, Barry, John, Oliver, and Hawkgirl followed. No one spoke. The cameras flashed long after the doors closed.
---
Behind the stage, Barry reached John. His face was pale. His hands shook.
"Are we really disbanding?"
John kept walking. "No."
"Then what was that?"
"That was for the cameras." John stopped at the service exit and turned. "Bruce suggested it. We will do rescue work in secret. No more press conferences. No more politics. No more asking permission. We find people who need help. We help them. Quietly."
Barry breathed out. "So we are not actually—"
"We are just not public anymore. Governments do not want us on their land. Fine. We will not be on their land. We will be in the shadows. Where Bruce has been this whole time."
"May be he is watching the whole show and eating popcorn ."
---
Wayne Manor. Evening. The dining table could hold twenty people. Tonight it held six.
Martha Wayne had prepared a large meal. Lobster. Roast beef. Three kinds of potatoes. Fresh bread. A chocolate cake that Alfred carried in with care. The chandelier light hit the silverware and spread across the walls.
Dean Winchester sat at the table. He held a fork in one hand and a lobster tail in the other. His plate was empty. He looked at the roast beef.
Sam sat next to him. He ate more slowly but just as much. His shoulders were lower than they had been in weeks.
Martha came from the kitchen with another plate. Steamed vegetables. She set it down and touched Dean's hair as she passed.
" Eat more boys, you look malnourished, look at bruce he is eating more than you, you need to grow more , specially sam."
" It's delicious," Dean said with a full mouth.
"Then eat more." She pushed the bread basket toward him. "There is more in the kitchen. Alfred order three of everything."
Dean did not need to be told again.
Thomas Wayne sat at the head of the table. He did not eat. His hands rested on the tablecloth. His eyes were on the two young men who had come to his home with rough hands and thin faces and the same blood as his son.
"So," Thomas said. "How is your father? Is he well?"
Dean stopped. Swallowed. "He is well. It is okay."
Thomas nodded. The answer was not really an answer. He did not push.
"Your father trained you to hunt. From childhood. Why?"
Dean set down his fork. Sam stopped chewing.
The question hung in the air. Not harsh. Not angry. But direct. Thomas Wayne asked all important questions this way.
"My mother was killed," Dean said. "By the demon. The one we just destroyed. Dad has hunted it our whole lives. He trained us so we could live."
Thomas's jaw tightened. Something crossed his face. Not pity. Anger. The anger a man feels when he learns that children were forced to become soldiers.
"He trained you to hunt the thing that killed your mother."
"Yes, sir."
"And you were four years old when it happened."
"Dean was four. I was six months." Sam's voice was quiet. "I do not remember her."
Thomas was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was controlled. But the knuckles on his folded hands were white.
"He made you hunters. He made you weapons. For thirty years."
"He made us survivors," Dean said. "There is a difference."
"Is there?"
Dean did not answer. Sam looked at his plate.
Thomas breathed out. The anger faded. Not gone. Hidden.
---
Dinner lasted two hours. Dean ate four plates. Bruce ate the ten plates of food, the two cousins eating in silence while Sam watched with surprise and concern.
"Do you two always eat like this?" Sam asked.
"Lately," Bruce said.
Martha brought cake. Alfred brought coffee. The table was covered with empty plates and used napkins and the comfortable mess of a good meal.
Thomas stood. He walked to a side table and returned with three small boxes. He put one in front of Dean. One in front of Sam.
"Open them."
Dean opened his. A watch. Not a fashion watch. Something heavier. The face was black metal. The band was reinforced. In the corner, a small symbol was cut into the metal.
"Anti-possession protection," Thomas said. "Built into the watch face. Works the same as the bracelet, but harder to lose."
Sam opened his. Same watch. Same symbol. He turned it over in his hands.
"Thank you, Mr. Wayne."
"Thomas. Call me Thomas." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin black card. He gave it to Dean. "This is a Wayne Enterprises credit card. No limit. No questions. Use it for supplies. Weapons. Travel. Whatever you need."
Dean looked at the card. "No limit."
"No limit."
"That is insane."
"What is insane is two boys hunting monsters their whole lives with only a stolen credit card and a car full of weapons." Thomas's voice was even but there was steel under it. "Not anymore."
He pulled out a second card. Gave it to Sam. "For you. Separate account. Same terms."
Sam took it. His hand was steady but his eyes were bright.
Thomas turned to both of them. "I can only help you with money. I cannot hunt with you. I cannot fight with you. I can provide you resources, call me whatever you needed, don't be shy! "
He reached into his pocket one more time. Two sets of keys. He threw one to Dean. One to Sam.
"Garage. East wing. Take your pick."
Dean looked at the keys in his hand. Then at Bruce. Then at Thomas. His voice was rough when he spoke.
"Why?"
"Because you are my family. All my life , i thought I was orphan "
Thomas met Dean's eyes. " Okay, now serious talk, the demon we killed was not the only one.
Homelander was a weapon built from demon blood. There will be more. We must prepare for the future. And that angel , you can't trust him, from stories i read in men's of letters these angel don't take human seriously, for them we are just pets, i heard a story when angel and human procreate, those angel group came to investigate and killed the kid, they killed a small kid like killing pest, that child was only 6 year's old, the legendary women hunt angels "
Sam leaned forward. "What?"
" Sam and Dean and also, demons can possess superhumans.
For killing your mother, there must special reason, you have to investigate and that angel why he is helping you, may be you both have something that demons and angel want, "
Dean and sam were shocked after hearing this, and most shocked was bruce, because bruce got previos life memories but hsi father analysed the situation just by solving and adding the situation.
Thomas continued " the next Homelander could be anyone. We have to prepare, the demons power is like virus it's like real dangerous pandemic,
You have the Men of Letters bunker. You have their records. You need to search for more. More bunkers. More knowledge. More weapons. This was one victory. Not the last."
Bruce looked at his father. Thomas looked back.
" Dad did you find other bunkers? ."
"I suspected. The Men of Letters had safehouses all over the world. The main bunker was the center. There will be others." Thomas turned to Dean and Sam. "Find them. Before someone else does."
Dean nodded. Sam nodded.
"Good." Thomas picked up his coffee cup. "
---
Later, on the back terrace, Dean and Bruce sat in silence. The night was cold but neither moved to go inside. Dean held his new watch, turning it over in his fingers.