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Bruce never thought he would get another chance in many things—in life, friendship, family, and love. He was the type of person who would sabotage something if it made him feel something not synonymous to rage or grief.
But not anymore.
Here he was now, at the Hall of Justice, with his newfound team—his newfound family. Everything felt mundane and just right. He couldn't comprehend how normal it became for him to hear Barry and Arthur bicker about Barry's superhero name—
“You can't be called 'Dash', kid. Have you ever run on water? Nah. You haven't,” Arthur rebutted in a serious way only he could muster while defending a cartoon character.
Barry crossed his arms and smirked, but it didn't make him look any more intimidating. “But if I can turn back time, who's to say I can't run on water?”
Arthur opened his mouth, ready to argue some more, but Barry shoved a whole cookie in it before a word was said, starting another argument between them.
—to watch Victor and Alfred go on about upgrading the technology in the batcave—
Alfred hummed in consideration. “Having an A.I will surely make things easier here. I won't have to attend on Master Wayne all the time, especially when I'm busy drinking tea.”
The dry tone made the younger male laugh.
“And going on dates,” Victor added in a teasing tone and then asked with barely contained excitement, “So we're good to work on it?”
“I'm not sure about going on a date, but as long as you include me in the process, we are good, Master Stone.” Alfred's lip was upturned.
Victor's triumphant grin couldn't be hidden even if he tried.
—or to observe Diana and Clark as they played thumb war—
“You're going down, Di.”
“In your dreams, Kal.”
Clark chuckled and then yelped when Diana almost had him. “That's cheating!”
“There is no cheating in war, Kal-El. Only strategy.” With that, Diana pressed her thumb on Clark's and held it for three seconds before shouting in victory.
—while he sat at the newly purchased black leather couch placed in the middle of the lounge room with Calvin Swanwick—the last son of Mars known as the Martian Manhunter.
Bruce was at peace. Contented. Happy.
“I cannot believe the world relies on this team composed of...” Calvin sighed as Clark asked Diana for a rematch. “Children.”
Bruce smirked and shook his head. “You're part of this team, Mr. Secretary.”
“A poor decision on my end, really,” Calvin deadpanned, but the small smile playing on his lips said otherwise.
Bruce watched the rest of their team as he remembered what the Martian Manhunter told him when they first met.
He hoped that not only his parents were proud of him, but Dick too. His light. His wing. His Robin. He was so bright and young to be taken from this world and Bruce knew the kid would have been mad at him for the past few years if he were here. He could only wish he managed to make Dick proud with his choices and actions now.
“That wasn't what you told me the first time.”
Calvin's expression seemed to soften as he faced the man responsible for everything around them—the loud laughter, the wide smiles, the domestic peace. Placing a supportive hand on Bruce's shoulder, he said, “And I stand by it, Bruce. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you.”
It was still difficult for Bruce to receive compliments, but he was getting better at it. He looked at Calvin for a moment before nodding. “Thank you, Calvin.”
Clark's triumphant yell got their attention. When Bruce turned his head, he saw the Kryptonian pumping his fist in the air. Bruce realized he was staring too intently because Clark turned around and their eyes met. The wide-eyed, innocent expression of Clark had Bruce's heart stuttering.
This happened before.
He knew this feeling.
It felt similar to when he was with Sel—well, shit.
He was falling, alright. Falling for Clark.
How long since it had begun, he didn't know, but it must have been the slow kind—the one you wouldn't see coming until you were in so deep; it was something one would only notice after having an epiphany, and boy was Bruce having one right now as the truth slapped him awake.
Clark sent a shy smile in his direction. Bruce's throat dried as electricity ran through his spine at the beautiful view in front of him. He knew he was hopelessly and utterly powerless in this situation, and he knew he couldn't do anything to stop what was happening, so he did the only thing he could do—he smiled back.
Because, really. Why would Bruce be afraid of falling when Clark can fly?