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The early morning sun filtered in through the clouds. It was just rising, making the sky around it a… Bruce couldn’t name the colour exactly.
The buildings and the people in them weren’t yet awake. Silence. Stillness.
It was so beautiful.
Bruce was perched on one of the gargoyles atop the highest balcony on Wayne Tower. He was surveying the city. His city. At least that’s what he would tell anyone if they asked.
What they didn’t know is that last night is the first ever night Gotham has gone without any violent crimes. None whatsoever.
A lone tear fell, sliding off his cowl and onto his jaw. Could you believe? None?
“Bruce?”
He almost flinched, but he didn’t have it in him to be mad about being disturbed. Not at him. That barely perceptible voice. He knew who it was without turning around.
“Clark.”
Clark, Superman, drifted towards Bruce, sitting down next to Bruce on the decorative marble railing. There were a few cracks, it needed to be replaced. Not today though. Today was a perfect day.
The two sat in silence for a bit, on the perfectly imperfect balcony, letting the wind blow delicately around them. It lifted Clark’s hair just slightly, as if afraid to disrupt the still atmosphere that had been created.
“What’s wrong, Bruce?” Clark asked, eyes sweeping over the horizon.
He thought for a moment. What was wrong? Right now, what was wrong? Gotham? No, Gotham was the absolute opposite of wrong. He thought of the balcony he and Clark were resting on right now. The cracks almost formed a love heart. He looked to Clark’s eyes, they were the same bright sky blue they always were. The birds were chirping, just starting to get up and ready for the day. A baby bird was probably learning how to fly today. …What was wrong again?
“Nothing.” Bruce smiled, turning to Clark. “God, absolutely nothing!”
Nothing was wrong. Not right now. This morning? It was perfect.
Clark smiled back and Bruce couldn’t help but laugh.
He knew how it looked. Batman, open mouthed laughing. Eyes glinting, catching the beautiful Gotham light. He couldn’t stop.
Not even when his laughs soon turned to cries, and his head was in his hands.
Small, silent cries. Not of sadness. Not of happiness. But of pride.
Pride in Gotham and its people. Pride in his family. Pride in the Gotham police. Pride in the rising sun and the way it highlighted Clark’s hair.
“Clark…” Bruce mumbled.
“Yeah?”
“It’s so beautiful.” He whispered almost reverently.
Clark nodded, letting his gaze drop to the rooftops of Gotham City.
“There were no violent crimes last night. None.” Bruce murmured, descending from the gargoyle to join Clark on the railing.
Clark moved his arm and pulled Bruce into a side hug, wrapping his cape around them both. “I’m so proud of you.”
Proud of… him. Bruce Wayne. Batman. The symbol in the sky. A beacon of hope. The beacon of hope.
That was the colour of the sky, Bruce decided. The early morning Gotham sky.
It was… hope.
They made it another day, and they’ll make it to the next one too.
Batman, and all the people he worked with, were there to make sure of it.
“I’m so proud of them. Of Gotham. The people. I’m so proud.” Bruce leaned his head on Clark’s shoulder.
“I know.” Clark rested his head atop Bruce’s.
“Gosh, Bruce, I know .”