Worth the Hassle
The air in the containment room reeked burnt flesh and scorched metal. Chains hissed faintly where they met his skin, humming with silver and green mingling light. Kryptonite-infused silver — enough to make every movement feel like drowning in fire and make rescue difficult.
James lifted his head just enough to glare at the camera watching him from the corner. His coat hung in tatters, blood drying at his collar. The last thing he wanted was his help. Not after the words they’d exchanged. Not after Superman had stormed out and left him in the cold.
But Lex Luthor didn’t care about heartbreak.
A red light blinked to life above the comm unit. Lex’s voice drifted over the intercom, smooth and venomous. “Say the words, Mr. Norrington. Or I’ll find someone less… sentimental to encourage him.”
James’s hissed. He’d rather swallow glass! But when one of Luthor’s guards flashed UV light upon him, the pain arced through him like fire, forcing a growl from his throat.
He finally broke— low and cold, his British lilt cracking under the strain. He could feel Luthor’s smug eyes behind the lens. “Superman…” His voice cracked with restrained venom and pain. “ I— I need your help. Please… hurry.”
The moment the red light flicked off, he let out a rasping breath and sagged forward in the chains.
James sagged against the chains, eyes half-lidded. “There. You got your bait,” he muttered toward the mirrored wall. “But don't hold your breath that he'll come for me, we're not exactly on speaking terms.”
He let his head drop forward, voice barely a whisper now.
"if he does... he’ll hate me more for it.” he mutters more to himself than Luthor.
A low, satisfied chuckle filtered through the intercom — rich, deliberate, and unbearably smug.
“Oh, Mr. Norrington… you underestimate just how predictable your caped paramour really is.”
The hum of the containment field rose slightly, bathing James in a brighter wash of green.
“For all his righteousness and restraint, he can’t resist a damsel — or whatever it is you count as these days. He’ll come charging in, heart first, head last. And when he does…He’ll see exactly what his sentimentality costs him.” What James cost him.
@notabirdnotaplane















