for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

[stands_for_hope]

[some time after the events here]

Superman and Batman were partners in more than a work sense. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent were an adorable (if mildly ridiculous) couple. Kal-El of Krypton and a man who defied any definition outside of the single letter 'B' made time on weekends, worked around world crises and teenage tempers, and occasionally fell into bed together when the stars aligned. Thankfully, they aligned relatively often.

Wayne Manor received a delivery of organic produce and baked goods once a week from a small, independent farm in the heartland. Lois Lane was a little less likely to agree with snide comments about the uselessness of Bruce Wayne, especially after seeing the utter madness that was Clark's desk after a few weeks. The texting habits of a certain blond teenager in Kansas rose sharply... and in parallel to that of a certain former street punk in Gotham.

Life was... well, it was good, even if it was also Life. Until it wasn't. Until everything changed.

They all had enemies, of course. But the problem with Superman's enemies was that they were coherent enough to decide to team up. And crazy enough to use the kind of weaponry that could make whole cars just vaporize into nothing.

Crazy enough to point that weapon at a somewhat-pinned Batman and a Wonder Woman who was digging him out from the rock. Crazy enough to point that weapon at Batman.

Bruce.

B.

Clark didn't even make the choice. His heart made it for him. The beam shot out of the Toyman's mechanical monstrosity and Clark flew, the pain of the beam itself nothing on the fact that he was leaving Bruce behind. That his vision of them as old men together would never happen. That he was leaving behind a world that needed him.

The guilt that, if it meant saving them, saving him, he didn't regret a thing.

Comments

[knightbynight]

"I'm not usually asleep when the sun comes up," he said, smiling a little.

Was he comfortable? Not entirely. Clark had been gone too long for him to be completely comfortable. Of course, the lack of comfort was largely in the sense that he wasn't taking Clark's presence for granted.

"I fight it less when I've gone to sleep in it to start with."

He rested, ever so slightly, more heavily against Clark just so he could feel more of him. He was going to stop chatting about things that didn't matter soon. Probably.

[stands_for_hope]

"It's cute," Clark said, and it almost might have seemed like the kind of slip you'd make after being alone for a long time, after weeks of talking to yourself with no one to complain, but there was just the tiniest impish curl to his lips...

"I think, baring something catastrophic, Superman's public return to Metropolis is going to need to wait a few days. I'm a bit too twitchy to be brandishing heat vision around civilians quite yet."

[knightbynight]

"Take your time. The League can keep handling Metropolis." They were certainly prepared to do it when they assumed Clark was dead. "I'll make Bruce Wayne disappear to join Clark Kent in some public way and we can take some time to let you unwind and come back to yourself."

He was prepared to take care of Clark, yes, enough so to even let being called cute slide.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

[stands_for_hope]

He glanced over at Bruce, faintly amused and still just a bit tired, before shrugging and returning his gaze to the sunrise.

"There's not much to talk about. I was in a post-apocalyptic future under a red sun. I spent a few weeks cold, hungry, tired, and away from everyone and everything I care about, hoping that I could get help once I reached the Watchtower. I got help. I came home. There's nothing..." he licked his lips, pressed them together hard. "There's nothing to do about it. There's not much to discuss. I'm home now. Problem fixed."

But his eyes were just a bit distant as he looked out from the manor.

[knightbynight]

Bruce thought about pushing.

Then he thought about the number of things Clark didn't push him about.

So he left it alone.

Mostly.

"If you change your mind, you know where I am."

[stands_for_hope]

"I would ask," he added, his voice just a little rushed after Bruce made his offer, "and you should should probably tell Alfred and Jason the same..." he breathed in "I would ask-- no sudden movements. Just for a few days. I haven't... settled yet."

And it was clear enough that it wasn't that he was looking for the words, but that he was looking for the most delicate words. The ones that sounded best.

"I don't want to hurt anyone."

[knightbynight]

Another time, Bruce might have made light of it while agreeing. Some snarky remark about not wanting to hurt anyone who didn't want to be hurt, or - just something. This wasn't the time or place so he didn't.

"I think it will take you a bit longer than a few days to completely recover, but I'll make sure they know to be careful."

He didn't think Clark would ever entirely recover. There was something fundamental about Clark's trust in himself and those around him that had been shattered. Yes, Clark had faced danger that could end his life before, but that wasn't the same. It wasn't even close to the same.

[stands_for_hope]

He swayed a little, something very like a shrug but not quite. And he still wouldn't look over at Bruce. Not quite.

"I need the couple of days to adjust to my strength again," he explained, his voice mild, matter-of-fact. "Get my control straightened out. The awareness will take longer, but the priority is to make sure I don't accidentally send someone through a wall or cave in someone's skull."

[knightbynight]

"Everyone here has the awareness and sense to use reasonable caution, and there's enough room here for you to have as much or little space as you want." They were used to him, and while not the same he did require some reasonable caution, above and beyond a normal person. They could extend that for Clark.

"Why are you avoiding looking at me?"

[stands_for_hope]

He breathed in a little and there was the faintest shudder to his breath. Now that he was healed, now that he was in the sun, that he was home with Bruce. He was all better. He should be all better. But--

"Because seeing my scars hurts you," he admitted quietly, "and I promised myself when this all started that I wouldn't lie to you."

And I'm not all better. I don't remember how to be that way yet.

[knightbynight]

Bruce gave a slight shrug, that looked careless and casual but wasn't really. More like calculated to be casual.

"You manage to survive being in my presence. I suspect I can manage the same for you." He was very, very fair in most things, if almost never to himself.

He wasn't talking about physical scars. Nor was he talking about things that had happened before Clark knew him and were just part of who he had always been.

"I am not the general public, Kal. I don't need you to be untouchable and perfect."

[stands_for_hope]

He didn't say anything for a moment, breathing in and out with increasing depth and increasing difficulty as he felt more and more choked. He closed his eyes, trying to find his calm. Couldn't. Not quite. Instead, he went towards his tired. He had plenty of that. It would serve for the time being.

"I just don't want to hurt you anymore right now," and the words came out rough, "I hurt everyone. So much."

He sucked in a breath and looked over at Bruce, his eyes wet.

"Ma's like me. Or I'm like her. I could feel her holding fast, keeping herself from crying on the phone. And you... I know why you were angry. And I know--" the words were cut off. He tried again. "I don't regret what I did, but that doesn't mean I don't feel like garbage for putting everyone through that. Putting you through that."

[knightbynight]

What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Stop? Who was he to tell anyone to stop feeling guilty?

Batman, that was who, and he was damned good at do as I say, not as I do.

He wasn't going to deny being angry, though. At least Clark was thinking of it in the past tense. Not that it was quite past, but it was remote enough now for him to move on.

"You aren't responsible for people feeling bad, except in the fact that you have people in your life who care about you." Said the man who didn't want to let Clark love him because he'd die someday. "You came back. That's all anyone can ask from you. You're going to feel bad anyway, because you're you, but that doesn't mean it's rational."

[stands_for_hope]

Clark didn't respond for a moment before slowly, he started to nod. A moment more and he let himself tip over until he was resting his head in Bruce's lap, eyes closed.

"I just need to settle out," he said again. "I'll be all right. I'll be all right in a couple of days."

[knightbynight]

Bruce settled his hand in Clark's hair, slow and light and careful, but eventually having his entire hand there, fingers lightly threaded through the too-long strands.

"You will be."

Maybe not all right and maybe not in a couple of days, but he would be.

[stands_for_hope]

If Bruce didn't want Clark going anywhere, he may have discovered the best method ever at ensuring it. Clark melted, at the words, the touch... Bruce's presence and his heartbeat and his breath.

"Alfred will probably appreciate one thing to come out of the whole mess," Clark observed, his voice hazy and warm. The seemingly perpetual twitchiness from earlier had evened out, at least for the moment.

[knightbynight]

"I can think of a few things Alfred will appreciate," Bruce murmured, "but which one are you thinking of?"

[stands_for_hope]

"Not much of a vegetarian anymore," he observed before letting his eyes slide up to see if he'd gotten a smile out of Bruce.

[knightbynight]

Bruce wasn't sure what to do with that, though Clark looking up at him like that did drag a faint smile to his face. "He'll probably feed you vegetarian, anyway, and just be glad there's another person here who will eat real food." He brushed his thumb over Clark's cheek.

[stands_for_hope]

"You eat my mother's rhubarb pie," he pointed out. Then his focus was taken up entirely by the brush of Bruce's thumb, chasing it lazily to press a kiss there.

"Are any of the windows in my room facing east?"

[knightbynight]

"I did, and I enjoyed it." He scratched lightly at Clark's scalp and just gave him a little more stimulation but still very, very gently.

"I don't know about the windows." He'd never been in that room. "I think so, if Alfred is half as intelligent as I think he is."

[stands_for_hope]

"Then let's go down there," he proposed. "We can open all the windows and let in the light. Sit on a nice rug. Or the bed." He started to make a soft, indistinct sort of rumble in his contentment before it turned into a sigh.

"Before I melt to the floor."

[knightbynight]

"Roof," Bruce corrected, and gently disentangled his hand from Clark's hair. Once Clark moved, he stood up to go. " Still not as good an option as a bed or carpet." Maybe Clark would even get some sleep.

[stands_for_hope]

"If you're on top of it, it's also a floor," Clark answered before pushing himself to his feet and dusting off. His skin had still been damp and some of the grit from the roof/floor had stuck. "What's the easiest way to get there from here? Stairs again?"

[knightbynight]

"The easiest way is over the edge of the roof and through a window. The least likely to cause damage are the stairs." He let his fingers brush the small of Clark's back and headed back toward the door and stairs. No sense breaking windows in his own house.