Substitute Hero

It was an awkward moment in the apartment as Mark and Barbara sat on opposite ends of the sofa. Neither of them knew what to say—there were far too many words to choose from, each weighed down by old regrets and half-forgotten promises. In their earlier years, they had been inseparable, two kids who swore they'd always have each other's backs. But then came the incident that put Barbara in Gotham General, and everything changed. For Mark, that memory hurt more than any punch he'd ever taken. Even worse was the last time they'd spoken, when Barbara had begged him to stop what he was doing—stop breaking the law, stop walking the path that would only lead to a jail cell. He hadn't listened, and then Batman and the Justice League had gotten involved, blowing things out of proportion. Still, he couldn't deny that he'd chosen that road in the first place. Even now, he wasn't sure he regretted it, since it led him here in a roundabout way. But it left him with regrets, especially where Barbara was concerned.

The silence between them stretched. Mark pretended to study a stain on the carpet, while Barbara stared at a spot on the wall. Outside, the muffled sounds of Debbie's neighbors echoed through thin walls—a TV turned up too loud, someone shouting from the hallway. The living room was small and cramped, the sofa taking up most of the space.

Finally, they both spoke.

"I'm so—"

"Lis—"

They stopped, looked at each other, and tried again.

"Sorry, you go."

"Sorry, you go."

"No, you."

"No, you."

They both realized how ridiculous they sounded and broke into laughter. The tension eased, at least for a moment. But that light mood slipped away as quickly as it came, and Mark felt his face grow serious again. The memories flooded back, guilt piling up in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Barb," he said quietly, eyes dropping to the floor once more.

Barbara frowned, confused. "Sorry for what?" she asked, moving her gaze from his hands to his face. From her perspective, Mark was the victim in all of this. She couldn't figure out what burden he felt he needed to own up to.

Mark sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "For a lot of things, I guess. For not listening to you when you told me to straighten out. But mostly..." He paused, fighting the lump in his throat. "Mostly for not talking to you again after you left the hospital."

He couldn't shake the image of Barbara lying in that alley, blood pooling under her. He remembered how it felt to see her lying in a hospital bed, his best friend—his only friend—stabbed because he'd picked a fight he shouldn't have. Barbara slid closer to him on the couch, ignoring the dull ache in her side. She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. "I get it," she said, voice softening. "You felt guilty about what happened. You blamed yourself. But I never held it against you, Mark. It hurt more knowing that I'd lost my best friend than anything else."

Her words cut through him. She had been the one who got stabbed, and yet she worried about losing him. He swallowed hard, staring at her hand on his arm. He remembered how warm it felt when they were kids, how she'd always grab his sleeve and drag him off to some new adventure.

Now, her touch reminded him that he had abandoned her when she needed him most. He'd been so wrapped up in his own guilt, he never thought to ask how she felt—about the alley, the hospital, about him.

Barbara saw the sorrow in his eyes and felt her heart twist. She raised her other hand, cupping his cheek and gently tilting his head so he'd look at her. "It's okay, Mark," she whispered. "We were kids. Don't be so hard on yourself."

She remembered the scrawny boy who always tried to protect her, who always told her that someday they'd leave Gotham and see the world. That kid was still there in Mark's eyes, behind all the pain and guilt.

Mark closed his eyes for a second, leaning into her hand, soaking in that small comfort he'd missed for so long. He'd made a promise to himself that day: if he ever got the chance, he wouldn't run from her again.

He opened his eyes and found Barbara watching him, her own eyes misty. "I won't leave you again," he said, his voice rough. "I promise."

Barbara swallowed, nodding slowly. She'd waited a long time to hear him say something like that, even if she hadn't known it. Despite everything—his criminal past, the secrets they both held now—she still trusted him. Because under all of it, Mark was still the boy who'd risk his life for her.

They sat there for a while, the old tension easing into a sense of calm. The hum of the apartment's outdated heater kicked on, rattling a vent in the corner. Barbara broke eye contact first, brushing a stray tear away with the back of her hand.

"So... what do we do now?" she asked, letting out a shaky laugh that barely masked her pain.

Mark shrugged and replied, "I guess we could watch some TV, or maybe eat."

Barbara managed a small smile as she leaned against him. She pressed her head against his shoulder. For a while, they sat there watching cartoons on the small TV. Barbara listened to the steady sound of Mark's breathing and felt the warmth of his body. Slowly, her eyes grew heavy, and she began to drift into sleep. She fell asleep in the dim light of the living room. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breathing evened out as she lost herself in a light sleep. Time passed unnoticed by her as the cartoons played and faded into silence.

When Barbara awoke, the room was dark. She opened her eyes and saw that the light from the TV had dimmed, and the clock on the wall showed that the sun had already set. A low groan escaped her lips as she pushed herself up from the sofa. She looked around, noting the silence and the dim glow of the streetlights outside the window. In the kitchen, Mark was busy. He moved behind the counter and spoke in a low tone. "Raven, I'll be a little late... yeah tell Kara," he said. He paused, then added, "I love you. Bye." His voice was calm as he set a few items on the counter and walked around the kitchen.

Barbara rose slowly from the sofa, limping slightly as she made her way to the kitchen. She sat on the stool by the counter and watched Mark move about.

"Hey, carrot, you feeling hungry?" Mark said with a grin as he approached the counter. "I could order a pizza. I'll even put spinach and pineapple on it for you," he offered in a teasing tone.

Barbara shook her head. "I need to go," she replied, her voice low.

Mark raised an eyebrow at her. "Is your dad expecting you home? Aren't you at college?" he asked.

Barbara nodded. "I need to get back to work," she said as she pushed herself up from the stall.

Mark circled the counter. "Work? Don't you think you're not exactly well enough to do that at the moment?" he said as he leaned on the counter and looked at her.

Barbara quoted something Bruce had once told her. "Gotham never sleeps, so neither can I," she said firmly.

She reached for her bag to grab her things, but before she could, Mark stepped in front of her with his arms crossed and a chiding look on his face.

"Barbara, you can't go out there," Mark said in a firm tone.

Barbara tried to walk past him. She stumbled slightly as she moved. "I have no choice, Mark. With Batman and Nightwing no longer out there, it is up to the rest of us to pick up the slack," she said, her voice edged with determination despite the fatigue in her limbs.

Mark shook his head and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure Gotham can survive a few weeks without you," he said.

"And how many people will get hurt in that time? How many will die? How many people could I have saved?" Her eyes were troubled as she said this.

After a long pause, Mark added, "So what, you don't owe them anything." He saw the look on Barbara's face and immediately knew he had misspoken.

Barbara's face hardened. "Why are you so afraid of being a hero?" she asked, turning to him. "Is it so bad to help someone without expecting anything in return? What's wrong with a little kindness?"

Mark's eyes narrowed. "You call it kindness. I call it chains. And I refuse to shackle myself to a world that takes and takes until there's nothing left of me," he said, his tone bitter. Then he said, "It's naive to think any of this will make a difference."

Barbara looked at him and said, "You think us all naive?" Her voice rose slightly. "Every night I go out there I know I'm no closer to making the world a better place than the night before, but it's not about that. It's about letting a father go home to see his daughter, letting a wife see her husband again, stopping a girl from being traumatized by a random thug."

Barbara then got up slowly, limping over to the chair where her things were neatly folded next to the sofa. She picked them up with care. "You're right, I don't owe them anything," she said softly, "but if I can save even one person, I'll give them everything I've got."

She began to change into her Batgirl outfit. First, she set her bag down and unzipped Marks jacket. She pulled out her mask and looked at it before putting it back down. Mark watched her with a quiet intensity from across the room. He did not speak, but his eyes showed concern. Then, with a deep, irritated sigh, he said, "Fine, you win." He stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. Barbara looked up and met his gaze. For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. Finally, he said, "I don't want to be a hero... but the idea of you hurting yourself even more is worse."

Mark's face softened, and he replied, "I want you to rest and recover before going back out there." He paused and then added, "I'll take your place for the meantime."

Barbara frowned and looked at him, confusion and concern mixing in her eyes. "What do you mean? Do you even know what you're doing?" she asked, her tone edged with worry.

Mark shook his head slowly. "You can help me over the phone or something," he said. "I can do it. I did save the world twice, I have a little bit experience."

Barbara hesitated for a moment, her expression still skeptical. Finally, she stuck her finger in the air and said, "No killing."

Mark rolled his eyes at that comment and then said, "Fine, no killing," in a gruff voice.

Barbara smiled then, and she stepped forward to hug him tightly. He returned the hug, holding her close for a long moment. At that moment, the door opened and Debbie, Mark's mom, stepped into the room. Her voice broke the quiet. "Oh, honestly Mark, you're already finding another one," she said, her tone light.

Mark pulled back slightly, and Debbie's face lit up when she saw Barbara. "Barbara, I haven't seen you for years!" she said, excitement clear in her voice.

Barbara's eyes brightened as she looked at Debbie. Debbie rushed over and hugged her, fussing over her injuries. She examined the bandages and asked, "Let me take you to the hospital."

Barbara shook her head. "I'm fine, Mrs Grayson. I'm fine," she said, though her voice wavered slightly.

Debbie looked at Barbara and then at Mark. "Stay for dinner," she said. "I made a big meal, and it's been too long."

Mark and Barbara exchanged a glance. But she agreeed and they sat down together at the table with Debbie. For the rest of the evening, they ate dinner and caught up. They spoke about old times, Debbie knew Barbara nearly as well as Mark did and was upset when she didn't come over anymore despite how much she urged Mark to invite her. Debbie asked Barbara about her work and her college, and Barbara answered vaguely as she stolll didn't know she was Batgirl. Barbara talked about her work and the subject she was studying, and Debbie listened carefully. To Barbara it felt like just yesterday she was here with both of them and it made her feel warm inside.

After dinner, and after a few goodbyes Mark walked Barbara to the door and they walked outside the apartment where they both went into an alleyway. Mark then picked her up and flew Barbara back to her place, keeping his speed steady so she wouldn't feel the wind pressure too much. She clung to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, though he could tell she was trying not to seem like she needed the support. She was still hurting, even if she wouldn't admit it.

He touched down in front of her building, lowering her gently to her feet. She wobbled a little but stayed upright, adjusting her jacket as she looked up at him. They didn't speak right away. The night air was cool, and Gotham's usual hum of distant sirens and city life filled the silence.

Barbara finally let out a small sigh, rubbing her arms. "Thanks, Mark."

Mark just nodded. "You sure you're good?"

Barbara smirked, her old confidence slipping back into place. "Yeah. I'm tougher than I look."

Mark snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before."

She hesitated for a second before stepping forward and hugging him again, arms tight around his waist. He exhaled through his nose but hugged her back just as tightly.

"Be careful, okay?" she murmured against his chest.

Mark pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. "You too."

Barbara nodded, stepping back toward the entrance of her building. Mark waited, making sure she got inside before turning away. He crouched slightly, then shot off into the sky, a blur of motion as he left Gotham behind.

The cold air cut past him, but he barely felt it. His body adjusted automatically, as it always did. He moved fast, slicing through the atmosphere like it was nothing, the world below reduced to streaks of light and shadow. He covered miles in seconds, watching as Gotham's dark skyline gave way to open land, then farmland. Within moments, he slowed, angling down toward the Kent farm. His boots hit the dirt in front of the house without a sound. He straightened, rolling his shoulders as he looked around. Everything was quiet. The porch light was still on, casting a faint glow over the fields.

Mark walked down the dirt road toward the house, his boots kicking up small puffs of dust with each step. The night was still, the only sounds coming from the faint rustling of the trees and the occasional chirp of crickets in the distance. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the lingering tension in his muscles. The flight back had done little to clear his head. A lot had happened. Seeing Barbara again, their conversation, the argument—taking her place in Gotham—it was a lot to take in. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached the house.

The door wasn't locked. It never was. Smallville was the kind of place where people still trusted their neighbors, where everyone knew everyone. More importantly, inside the house were two of the strongest women on the planet, so security wasn't exactly a concern. Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, the warmth of the house washing over him. He dropped his bag by the door. He hadn't been able to get everything he needed—most shops had closed by the time he got around to it—but he'd managed to grab some essentials before heading back.

As he rubbed his eyes, trying to push away the exhaustion settling into his bones, he heard a soft voice call his name.

"Mark."

He looked up and smiled as Raven walked toward him, her bare feet silent against the wooden floor. She was dressed in one of his old shirts, oversized and draping off her frame in a way that made her look even smaller than she was. Her dark hair was slightly messy, her violet eyes soft but sharp, watching him closely.

"You're late," she murmured, stopping just in front of him.

Mark shrugged. "Got caught up with an old friend."

Raven's gaze flickered over him, searching for any signs of injury. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, but she didn't look convinced. Her fingers ghosted over his arm before she sighed and leaned into him, resting her head against his chest.

Mark wrapped his arms around Raven without thinking, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. He could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing against him.

"I missed you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I missed you too," Mark said, tightening his hold on her momentarily before pulling back. "Didn't mean to worry you."

Raven gave him a look that was hard to decipher, then shook her head slightly and pulled him by the arm.

"Come to bed," she murmured, leading him toward one of the guest rooms.

Mark stopped, confused. "Why the guest room?"

She smiled, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "You look stressed, and I don't want to wake Kara."

"But we can't do that. You're still healing down there," Mark protested, his tone laced with concern.

"I know," Raven acknowledged, her voice calm yet determined, continuing to guide him into the room. She closed the door behind them, the dim light casting long shadows.

Inside, she turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest in a way that was both comforting and suggestive. "But we can still... relax," she said. Mark felt a mix of desire and duty, but Raven's touch was persuasive. Her dark purple hair framed her face, her eyes held an inviting warmth, and her body moved was partially revealed by her loose pyjama vest.

She leaned in, her lips close to his ear, whispering, "Just us, for a moment." Her hands trailed down his arms, guiding him toward the bed. He knew he should resist, but the way Raven's hands felt on him, the way she looked at him with that blend of understanding and desire, was too much. As she gently pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him, her presence was both soothing and arousing.

Raven, still straddling Mark, reached down and began to lift her nightgown. She pulled it over her head, revealing her body to him. Her skin was pale, almost glowing in the dim light of the guest room. Her breasts were full, the curves pronounced against her slender frame, topped with dark nipples that stood out starkly against her light skin.

She then turned her attention to Mark's pants, her fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper. She tugged them down along with his underwear, freeing his half-erect cock. She wrapped her hand around it, feeling its warmth and the way it pulsed slightly under her touch. She began to rub it, her hand moving in a rhythmic motion, coaxing it to full hardness.

Once Mark's erection was firm, Raven leaned forward, her hair cascading around her face as she lowered her mouth to him. Her lips parted, taking the head of his cock into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the tip, tasting the saltiness of his skin. She then moved her head down, taking more of him in, her lips sliding down his shaft. The sensation was warm, wet, and incredibly stimulating for Mark, who could feel the heat of her mouth enveloping him.

Raven continued, her mouth working up and down his length, her tongue pressing against the underside of his cock. She took him deeper, the head of his cock reaching to the back of her throat, causing her to gag slightly, the sound escaping as a soft "guk." She adjusted her angle, her throat relaxing to accommodate him, taking him even further until her lips were almost at the base of his cock, another "ghk" sound escaping as she pushed past her gag reflex.

Mark's hands found their way to her head, fingers tangling in her hair, not guiding but feeling the rhythm of her movements. The sensation of her mouth, the tightness of her throat around him, was overwhelming. He could feel every movement of her tongue, the suction as she pulled back, only to engulf him again.

Raven kept up her pace, her head bobbing, her hands occasionally joining in, one at the base of his shaft, the other gently cupping his balls. Each time she took him deep, there was a slight gagging sound, "guk, ghk," but she didn't stop, her determination clear in the way she handled him.

The sensations built for Mark, the warmth, the wet sounds of her mouth, the occasional gag, all contributing to the rising pleasure. He felt his climax approaching, the tension in his body tightening like a spring. His grip on her head tightened slightly, not forcing, but in anticipation of his release.

With a groan, he came, his body tensing, his cock throbbing as he released into her mouth. Raven felt the first spurt hit the back of her throat, warm and forceful, and she swallowed, taking in his cum. She kept sucking, milking him of every drop, her mouth and throat working in unison to draw out his pleasure.

Mark's hands held her head steady as he finished, his body shuddering with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his breath coming in heavy pants. Raven slowly pulled back, releasing him from her mouth with a soft pop, a trail of saliva and cum connecting her lips to his now softening cock. She sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest rising and falling with her own breath, her nipples still hard from the excitement. Raven didn't let the moment linger; she immediately started rubbing Mark's cock, her hand working him back to hardness. Her other hand moved down to her pussy, fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in slow circles. She let out soft moans, the sound filling the quiet room.

Mark, watching her, offered, "Let me lick you."

Raven shook her head, her voice firm yet husky. "I want you inside me."

Mark leaned up, concern in his tone. "We can't yet."

She pushed him back down, her whisper seductive, "We don't have to use that hole."

At her words, Mark's cock throbbed, the suggestion clear. He flipped their positions, now on top, his lips trailing kisses down her body. He reached her breasts, sucking on one of her dark nipples, eliciting a louder moan from Raven. She then turned around, presenting her arse to him. Her thick thighs framed her pale skin, contrasting with the darker grey of her anus, which twitched enticingly. Mark ran a finger from her pussy, making her moan, using her own moisture to lubricate his finger. He circled her anus, the sensation new yet arousing for both.

Mark pushed his cock against Raven's tight anus, feeling the resistance give way as he entered her. The warmth was intense, her insides gripping him with a fierce tightness. He moved slowly, each inch of penetration a new sensation for them both. Raven moaned, her body adjusting, the stretch both painful and pleasurable.

The room filled with the sounds of their breathing, the slick noise of lube, and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin as Mark began to thrust. His cock slid in and out, the friction sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. Raven's moans turned to gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly, her arse jiggling with each thrust. They found a rhythm, Mark's movements steady, the sound of their bodies loud in the quiet room. The smell of sex, sweat, and arousal hung in the air, mingling with their heavy breaths. Raven's body trembled under him, her moans a mix of pain and ecstasy as Mark hit deeper spots.

Kara walked in, her pregnant belly prominent, her naked body a contrast of curves and roundness. "Without me?" her voice had an edge, but her eyes were dark with desire. She climbed onto the bed, her skin brushing against Raven's back, her face close to Raven's ass, watching Mark's thick cock stretch Raven out.

Kara's hand snaked under Raven, finding her clit, rubbing it with quick, firm strokes. Raven's moans grew louder, her body shuddering as the dual sensations overwhelmed her. Mark felt his orgasm building, the sight of Kara aiding Raven's pleasure pushing him closer to the edge. As he neared his climax, Kara pulled his cock out of Raven with a decisive move, aiming it at her face. Mark groaned, his cum shooting out in thick, hot streams. The first spurt painted Kara's cheek, sticky and warm, dripping down. Another hit her lips, some entering her mouth, the taste familiar and salty. More cum landed on her forehead, some catching in her eyelashes, the rest dripping down her face.

Raven, under the relentless stimulation from Kara's fingers, came hard, her body convulsing, her cries filling the room. Her orgasm seemed to stretch on, her pussy clenching with each wave of pleasure.

Kara, her face now covered in Mark's cum, licked her lips, tasting him, her eyes moving between Mark and Raven, a smirk on her lips. The smell of sex was stronger now. Mark looked at Kara and recognised the look on her face, if he didn't take care of her now she'd pin him down and milk him dry.

A few hours later...

Mark was behind Kara, her body on all fours, her ass high in the air. He pushed into her, his cock stretching her tight hole. Kara moaned, the sensation of fullness overwhelming her. Her moans filled the room, loud and needy as Mark began to thrust.

Next to her, Raven was also on her hands and knees, Mark's fingers working into both her pussy and her ass. His touch was deep, exploring her insides, making her moan in sync with Kara. The room was filled with the sounds of their pleasure, the wet noises of penetration, and the scent of their arousal.

Kara and Raven turned their heads, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Raven, tasting the saltiness of Mark's cum still on Kara's face, licked it off eagerly, her tongue sliding over Kara's skin. The act was so erotic that Kara moaned into the kiss, pulling Raven's tongue into her mouth, sucking on it with hunger.

Mark watched them, his arousal spiking at the sight, and he thrust faster into Kara, the force making the bed shake, the walls trembling with the intensity of their lovemaking. Kara's moans grew louder, Raven's body trembled under Mark's fingers, both women on the edge of ecstasy.

Kara felt her orgasm building, Mark's cock hitting all the right spots inside her. She pushed back against him, wanting more, her sounds of pleasure mingling with Raven's gasps. Raven, feeling Mark's fingers deep inside her, was close too, her body reacting to every move, her pussy and ass clenching around his digits.

The room was loud with their moans, the bed creaking under their weight, the slap of skin against skin, and the wet sounds of their sex. Mark's thrusts became erratic, his breath heavy as he felt Kara's body tighten around him, signaling her climax. She came hard, her body shaking, her moans turning into cries of pleasure.

Raven followed, her orgasm triggered by the relentless fingering, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She moaned into Kara's mouth, their kiss breaking only for air, their faces flushed and sweaty.

Mark, feeling both women climax, couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled out of Kara, his cock throbbing, ready to release. Both women quickly moved, kneeling in front of him, their mouths open, eager for his cum. Their hands worked his cock, their grips firm, their movements in sync.

He groaned, the sight of them on their knees, faces upturned, eyes hungry, pushing him over the edge. His cum shot out, thick ropes of it covering their faces. Some went straight into their mouths, the taste familiar and arousing. More cum splattered across their cheeks, noses, and foreheads, dripping down, some catching in their hair, the rest trailing down their necks and chests.

They moaned, catching the cum with their tongues, swallowing what they could, the rest sticking to their skin. They licked each other's faces, cleaning up the mess, their tongues intertwining, sharing the taste of Mark.

After their intense session, Mark, Kara, and Raven lay on the bed, their bodies coated in sweat, the air around them heavy with the scent of sex. Mark was in the middle, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Kara nestled into his side, her skin still warm and slightly sticky, her pregnant belly resting against him. She sighed contentedly, draping an arm over him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his chest. Raven moved closer to his other side, her body fitting against him like a puzzle piece. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her breath hot against his skin, her dark hair splayed across his shoulder.

The three of them, exhausted and satisfied, adjusted to find comfort in each other's closeness. Raven's leg hooked over Mark's, her skin slick against his. Kara's hand found Raven's, their fingers intertwining over Mark's torso, a silent acknowledgment of their shared intimacy.

As the adrenaline of their lovemaking faded, a peaceful quiet settled over them. Their breathing synchronized, the room filled with the soft sounds of their exhales. Mark felt the weight of both women against him, their warmth seeping into him, calming him. With each passing moment, their movements slowed, eyelids growing heavy. Kara's head rested more firmly against Mark's shoulder, her breathing deepening. Raven's lips parted slightly, her breath tickling Mark's neck as she drifted towards sleep.

Mark closed his eyes a smile on his face as he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.

(AN: So yeah Mark is gonna be a hero for now, not cause he believes in it but because he cares about Barbara. Plus it's gonna set the stage for him meeting some people he hasn't seen in a while. Including one Harleen Quinzel. Anyway after things are gonna get interesting with the Viltrumites and all that jazz. I hope you enjoyed it.)

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