Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The old warehouse was dark, except for the few rays of the moon creeping in through the hole in the ceiling. The rough winds made the metal creak, ominously, a large metal support unsteadily rocking right above a sizable crater in the ground, two bodies tangled in a heap right in the middle of it.

Clark's head hurt.

Clark's head hurt, and he was really dizzy. Clark never felt so dizzy before, and there was something heavy on top of him. Clark tried opening his eyes, but his vision swam and he whined, softly, blinking as the tiny spec of the moon slowly came into view, drifting in and out of dark, stormy clouds.

He opened his mouth to call for Ma, but his voice didn't come out properly, only a small, pathetic sound making it past his lips. The heavy thing on top of him stirred.

Clark's heart stuttered as he slowly took in his surroundings, a heap of strange black cloth on top of him rising, until a scary, split looking mask stared down at him, one of its eyes an eerie white, and the other one missing, a large crack going right through it. Behind it, he could see a pale blue eye staring at him, shadowed and unnerving and Clark hiccuped in fear before gathering all his strength and pushing at this monster with all his might.

The monster went easily, letting out a small little breathy sound as it rolled off him, and Clark crawled back, hands catching on the chipped and splintered floor as his eyes welled with tears, panic slowly rising. He was dizzy, still, although it seemed to be getting better, so he crawled all the way to the edge of the hole they were in, hands tangling in weird feeling fabric and instinctively trying to keep an eye on the monster.

But, instead of lunging at him, the monster stumbled, as it tried to stand, and Clark saw as a child's leg slipped out of a big black boot before tangling in a yellow belt, small, very childish hands trying and failing to catch it. And maybe… And maybe it wasn't a monster at all, because as Clark watched, transfixed, the kid - because it had to be a kid, he didn't seem to be older than Clark- face planted on the floor without making even a single noise.

Sniffling, Clark drew his knees to his chest, looking as the dark bundle shakily rose again, a thin leg stepping out of the remaining boot and over the strange yellow belt. In his own haste, Clark didn't even notice how he himself slipped out of one very red boot, the other, also very red and way too big, still clinging to his left leg in a bunch of fabric. It was smooth under his hands, and it seemed both familiar and unfamiliar, and he was also wearing really big, mismatched clothes but his were really bright red, yellow and blue. He didn't remember how he got here. He didn't remember, and he didn't know where Ma and Pa were, and all this seemed so scary and-

There was a loud, scary sound outside that made both Clark and the other kid flinch, Clark feeling as his own heart started rabbiting even faster in his throat and the other boy suddenly started shivering violently, and it seemed like it was a gunshot , and suddenly, there were the sounds of cars in the distance and Clark didn't feel safe but this felt so much worse and he couldn't breathe - 

The other kid in the scary mask that was also too big for him darted to the side, as if to run, but stopped, breaths coming up just as short as Clark's did, and he was looking at Clark, something manic in his blue grey eye, and, before Clark knew it, the boy was suddenly dragging him up to his feet bodily. Clark could do nothing but stumble up, both of them awkwardly shuffling in the too big clothes as the boy dragged him out by the hand with surprising strength, and then they were up and out of the hole and running, straight into the darkness, as fast as they could, clutching at their large clothes that were threatening to slide off, and there were more sounds of vehicles coming out from the outside and then someone pounding on the door of the warehouse before the gunfire started again, Clark biting his lip bloody as he ran after the other kid in a blind panic, hand clutching his like a lifeline. They were ducking under pipes and weaving through strange looking containers, stumbling a little in the dark, and Clark didn't know where they were going, and the other boy didn't seem to know either, but somehow Clark knew that if whoever it was that was bursting into this warehouse had caught them, it would be over. It seemed that luck was on their side, because the boy suddenly tugged him harshly to a small, crooked looking open vent, and then Clark was all but shoved in there, all of his trailing red cape thrown haphazardly after him, and Clark moved, feeling the other boy crawl in behind him, the vent just barely small enough for the both of them to squeeze through.

The steadily rocking metal support beam had finally broken off from the rest of itself and  landed on the ground with a loud crash, the startled men that had poured into the warehouse opening fire immediately, and Clark choked on his own scream at the sound, hand covering his head in the vent.

There were not so distant sounds of the men running, as the goons had surrounded the crater, peering into it and confirming that whoever they were looking for wasn't there. “Find them! They couldn't have gone far! I want their fucking heads on a platter!” The short, chubby man that was in charge had shouted, screeching voice echoing in the dingy warehouse, and Clark had to swallow back his tears and sniffles and continue to crawl through the narrow tunnel until the vent suddenly cut off, going upwards, so Clark had squeezed himself there, sliding himself right up against the wall and panting, the other kid soon joining him there, the dark, tight space small enough just for the two of them as they instinctively pressed close, small, hiccuping breaths muffled as Clark pressed his hands tightly to his mouth. The other kid might have been even more terrified than Clark, because he was shaking violently, the tremors going through Clark's form as he was pressed close, but the boy remained eerily silent. Seeking comfort, Clark scooted even closer as they waited, terrified out of their minds and crammed into the tight space, flinching at every word and shuffle of the men advancing towards their hiding place like small, scared animals.

Inside the warehouse, men with guns scattered around in their search, lights catching on the containers and walls, reflecting off of the rusted surfaces. Heavy boots thundered on the ground. There was no need for discretion; they had clearly come here to kill, guns pointed at any and all directions.

A light of a flashlight caught onto the surface of the vent, travelling inside, and Clark froze, scared that they were about to be discovered and killed, and then he'd realized that his cape was too bright and if the men looked, they would be spotted, so Clark started tugging at it hastily, trying not to make any sound and clutching his own teeth harshly enough to not let and of his out sobs out as the fabric caught onto something, but then there were trembling hands next to his, and they managed to tug Clark's cape close, and suddenly, the other boy was covering the both of them in his own thick black cape, Clark clumsily helping him with his task by trying to tuck the fabric around them more seamlessly and drawing his legs even closer to his own tiny body.

As someone approached their little hiding place, they had both had completely stopped breathing, and Clark tightly shut his eyes, heart beating too fast, and too loud and what if they found them-

He might have started crying, silent tears wetting his cheeks. He didn't know anymore. He didn't know and he swallowed it down, but at least there was a small warm shape pressed to his side and trembling beside him just like he was, and Clark didn't even know when they had started holding hands, or if they ever stopped and it was too dark anyway so they just sat there and tried to not breathe too loudly and listened.

Outside, a man crouched by the vent, pointing a gun in, his light catching on nothing but darkness as he looked, for a few long, agonizing moments. Eventually, he stood back up, dismissing the way too small vent as a hiding place, the thuds of heavy boots becoming smaller as he walked away, saying something on his walkie talkie. On the other side of the warehouse someone kicked open a container with a resounding screech.

Clark didn't know how much time had passed. At some point, he might have passed out from the lack of oxygen in his lungs and pure panic, but when he awoke with a jolt, they were still shrouded in darkness, that same, small warmth pressed to his side and a hand still trembling in his, and the pressure of the metal vent around them near suffocating.

Clark listened.

There were no more loud sounds outside. No shouts or footsteps, no screeching tires or creaking containers and gunshots. It was so quiet, unnervingly quiet. Clark felt a little less nauseous, though. He didn't know why, but he felt much better than he did before, even if a little weak. But he was still lost. He still didn't know what to do, and he wanted his Ma and Pa.

A hand squeezed his tighter, as if acknowledging that he was awake, and Clark tried squinting at the other boy in the near blackness.

They probably needed to get out. They needed to get out and- And talk to the police. The police would help, surely. The sheriff of Smallville was a nice man, and Pa talked to him sometimes, when they would bring the old truck into town; but this place, this big warehouse didn't look like any of the places in Smallville he remembered.

His hand, held in the other boy's tight grip, started hurting, so he let out a little pained sound, trying to tug it away, and the grip loosened, letting him go. Immediately, Clark felt the loss of that one point of contact, but he didn't try taking the other boy's hand again, suddenly nervous.

Clearing his throat, Clark tried speaking, the first words coming out a little jumbled as he whispered:

“Do you.. do you think they're gone?”

There was no response for a little while, before the other boy whispered back, so soft and so shaky that Clark had to strain to hear it:

“I don't know.”

For a few moments, the two of them just sat in silence, tensely listening for any disturbances outside.

“I'm Clark.” Clark suddenly whispered, a little louder than before. “And- and my family name is Kent. I'm from Smallville, Kansas.”

The boy didn't answer him immediately. Time stretched, Clark's eyes filling with bitter tears again, but he blinked them away.

“Bruce.” Came out a breathy little reply. “Bruce Wayne.”

“Hi, Bruce.” Clark said, because Ma and Pa had always taught him that it's good manners to say hello to new people, relief spreading through him at the other boy speaking.

“Hi.” Bruce whispered back.

He too seemed to have calmed down, just a little, because he wasn't shaking as much. 

After some more time had passed with no scary sounds coming from the outside, the two decided to finally crawl out of the vent. Silently, Clark moved after Bruce, only just noticing how numb his limbs have become from sitting in the same position in the cramped space for so long and wincing at the pins and needles. Bruce paused for a really long time at the entrance to the vent, looking around, before finally crawling out, Clark slipping out of it right after. Anxiously, the two boys looked around some more at the ransacked warehouse. There didn't seem to be any men with guns left. As he stepped forward, Bruce winced, clutching at his leg and looking at the sole of his foot as if he'd stepped on something. It seemed painful, and Clark came closer as Bruce sat down, rubbing at his leg.

He almost stumbled, his own too big clothes sliding off his feet. They needed to do something about this before trying to find help. Next to Bruce, Clark sat down, fiddling with his long pants until he managed to wrap the fabric over his leg in an imitation of a shoe. Then, he proceeded to do the same with the other leg, smooth fabric not super easy to work with. Bruce just watched him as Clark completed his task, tightening other parts of his costume with knots where he could, smooth fabric kind of hard to work with. As the other boy caught on, he started trying to imitate Clark and wrap the strange fabric of his own suit over his legs. It didn't seem to be working as well for him as it did for Clark, so Clark scooted closer, and, with a “Here” started wrapping Bruce's legs up in the grey cloth. It was even harder to work with than his own had been, kind of hard and probably heavy, but they had managed something doable, in the end.

Bruce fiddled with his cape, clearly uncomfortable with the length of it, as he insistently tugged on it, trying and failing to rip it off. And, when Clark tried that with his own, it didn't give as well. They probably needed something sharp for that. Luckily, they found some broken glass on the floor nearby, shards sharp in a way his Ma would never let him touch, and Bruce picked one up carefully, after covering his hand by the sleeve of his grey suit. It took them a real while to finally cut away Bruce's cape in particular, and they were both kind of tired after the whole ordeal, panting and sitting on the floor, Clark throwing away the glass shard he had picked up in an attempt to help.

At some point the boys had stood up, movements a lot less obstructed, now, and slowly made their way through the warehouse, looking around cautiously. They stuck to the darker corners of the room, and even though Clark wasn't afraid of the dark anymore, he still felt a shiver crawl up his spine as he looked around, shadows seemingly stretching from every corner.

Now that they weren't panicking and trying to run and hide, Clark really looked at the other boy. He was shorter than Clark by a good few inches, and definitely a lot more thin and pale. With the mask still obscuring most of his face Clark couldn't exactly tell, but Bruce looked like a city kid through and through, his hands having felt soft and delicate when they were clasped in Clark's own. Clarks hands weren't much rougher, but he hoped they would be, soon, like his Pa’s were, because he was a good boy and helped a lot around the farm. Clark was honestly surprised that this scrawny kid even managed to haul him up to his feet when he did. But Bruce was already dragging his feet, a little, clearly exhausted from the day's events. And Clark wasn't sure if he'd rested when Clark himself fell unconscious for however long that was.

Slowly, they made their way to the crater in the floor where they first awoke. Clarks boots were gone, as was that yellow belt and the black boots the other boy stepped out of. But a big steel beam was lying there, in their place, the side of it peppered with bullets, and that alone had made Clark shudder. Catching up to Bruce, he gingerly reached out, taking his hand in his own again, the other boy not making a single sound of protest as they silently looked onto the crater.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Wearily looking around for any more of the bad men the kids slipped out of the busted front door of the warehouse. With the cloudy, dark sky it was hard to tell what time of day it was. But it was probably still night. There was no longer even a moon in the sky, the unusual darkness making Clark shudder. He already knew he wasn't in Smallville, and he didn't know how he got here. He just hoped that Ma and Pa weren't too worried, and hoped that they were also okay, and that the bad men didn't touch them, and maybe they were safe and looking for Clark with the police. He hoped this other boy's family was looking for him, too.

Thankfully, there were no bad guys waiting for them around the corner, so they quickly ran to the nearest alley, hiding under some precariously balanced wooden planks. The bad guys still didn't come, but the kids were a little too nervous to talk to each other out loud, even in whispers, now that they were out in the open, so, with a few exchanged looks, they decided to follow the way Bruce had reluctantly pointed.

The only buildings they passed were either very rundown or looked like they were used for storage, like that big warehouse, trash littering the narrow streets and grimy passageways. Clark never saw a place that looked so scary and desolate before, even in movies. He followed Bruce, who at least looked a little less scared by the sights of the unknown city.

There were no people on the streets. Clark didn't know if it was good or bad. On one hand, he knew he shouldn't talk to strangers, but they also needed to find an adult, someone who could call or maybe take them to the police.

As the two boys cautiously rounded another corner to what looked like a more livable part of the city, a single, occasionally blinking street lamp made relief flud Clark's veins. Light was good, and he could even see, in the distance, a taller building with a few of the windows lit up, looking like an apartment complex.

A clicking sound made the two of the boys freeze in their tracks, however, fear seizing their throats. Clark looked at Bruce for reassurance, before the both of them turned, a figure making its way hastily across the street. Clark almost felt like he could cry in relief as he spotted a woman hurrying to pass under the singular street lamp, and Clark was already stepping forward, out of the darkness, trying to summon his voice.

“M-miss….”

The woman froze in her tracks, just like the kids did, at first, clutching at her bag and looking the two small figures, eyes widening at the way they were both dressed.

Clark stepped forward again, words not coming out past the lump in his throat as he tried to ask her for help, nervousness and Ma and Pa's teaching rearing their head at the idea of talking to a stranger.

Suddenly, the woman looked to the side. She paled and turned on her heels, practically running back the way she came from.

“Wait!” Clark cried, stepping forward, then again, and again, until he was running after her, but the woman was really fast, and before he could ask for help the woman was already gone, Clark stopping to catch his breath once he got under a street lamp, small, running steps catching up to him, Bruce's breathing coming out in uneven puffs.

Clark wanted to cry. There was a tug at his rolled up sleeve and he turned to look at Bruce, but then, both of them froze again, a gruff voice cutting through the stillness of the night.

“Holy shit.”

A man.

A man in a black mask, with a gun strapped to his back and a lit cigarette halfway to his lips was looking at them in surprise, mouth hanging open, almost as if he didn't believe what he was seeing.

Clark's heart stopped.

The man quickly fumbled for something- For his gun- and they were already darting away and running, and running, and running -

Clark could barely hear the shouted curses and the heavy steps following after them as he flew after Bruce into the narrow alleyway, almost panicking at the sight of the fence, but Bruce was already scrambling to peel the slightly askew edge of it further, ducking under it, the harsh vires catching on his clothes as he slipped by and Clark was following, terrified, as they just ran, blindly, the scary man right on their heels.

Everything blurred.

Clark was panicking again, and they were both running, again making their way through the narrow, dark streets. At some point he must have overtaken Bruce in speed, because he now had to look behind him to see the blurry shape of the boy as they both ran.

And it was actually Bruce, who stumbled.

Right in front of Clark's eyes, as he turned again to see the other one following, the boy's legs seemed to finally give out, tripping over nothing, and the boy fell, harshly, small hands hitting the ground first as he tumbled.

“B-bruce!” Clark stopped, out of breath and turning back to the boy, helping him up, tears clouding his vision still as he frantically looked around for any place they could possibly hide in, eyes landing on the slightly askew, round lid of the sewer system.

Bruce made a tiny noise of pain, sounding like he was going to cry soon, and Clark quickly tried to drag the other boy to the sewer opening, their eyes meeting as Bruce caught onto his plan.

Letting go of Bruce with trembling hands Clark used all of his strength to pull the lid back some more, the metal dragging, but not enough so that it would be hard to grab it later. It was kind of heavy, and Clark was so, so tired.

He looked at Bruce, the boy clutching his scraped hands to his sides and looking out for any more scary men.

“Go.” Bruce whispered, hastily motioning for him to go first, and Clark gulped, lowering himself so he could clumsily catch onto the ladder. It wasn't long before Bruce climbed after him, trying to hastily pull the lid over with one scraped hand and Clark climbed back up a few steps to stand beside him, the two of them managing to pull the lid over the sewer hole somehow.

Clark almost slipped on his way down the ladder, Bruce actually slipping and falling right on top of him with a yelp, probably the loudest sound Clark had heard him make all night, the kids tumbling down in a puddle of cold, gross water and nearly falling off into the actual sewer stream that was running below the narrow walkway. 

Bruce let out a choking sound. Then, a sniffle, and finally this seemed to have been his breaking point. Bruce scrambled off of him as fast as he could, pushing himself into a wall, his scary mask probably having slipped off his face as they fell to reveal a childish, pale face underneath, with black, ruffled hair and big teary blue eyes. His features looked delicate, almost like that of a doll, even as he was shaking and crying, wiping uselessly at his eyes. His cheeks were an angry red as he mumbled barely coherent apologies between the choked off sobs wracking his tiny body, and there was a cut on his forehead that looked big and painful, over the spot where the mask had split.

The sight made Clark choke up, and his arms and legs hurt, from the fall. In an instant, without even thinking, he lunged at the other boy, squeezing him in a tight hug. He was crying, too, now, clinging onto Bruce as tightly as he could, the sheer terror and stress of the day finally catching up to them, and Bruce let him, his own hands coming to clutch at Clark just as desperately as they rocked.

The screech of the tires above startled them out of their breakdown, and the kids immediately scrambled to their feet, guided by nothing but blind panic as they started running again, guided this time by Clark, aimlessly trying to get away and clutching onto each other like a lifeline.

Clark didn't know how long they had run for. At some point, they had to switch to walking, too out of breath as they exhausted the rest of their power, stumbling forward only on the need to get to a safer place. By that point, both of the kid's stomachs were rumbling loudly, legs hurting from running and their makeshift shoes.

Even the tears had dried up.

Clark felt really thirsty, too, stomach seizing painfully.

Something small skittered a few ways away from them with a high pitched sound and Bruce jumped, clinging to Clark tighter, Clark worrying at his own lip painfully in surprise.

Slowly, ever so slowly they made their way further into the tunnels, no longer sure where or why they were going.

Clark barely even remembered how they found a tiny hole on the side of the wall to curl up in, too exhausted to even keep walking, Clark putting himself closer to the exit protectively as they both fell asleep, still clinging to each other tightly.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The roar of the motorcycle heralded Jason's arrival to the cave. The man stretched his shoulders as he got off, walking up the stairs and throwing his red helmet carelessly on the table. A yawn escaped as he flopped gracelessly into the big bad Bat’s computer chair and peeled away his domino, ready for some solo investigating.

Mostly for dramatic effect, even though there was no one to see him other than the paranoid bastard’s million security cameras, Jason stretched out his arms as well, before hovering his fingers on the keys and logging into the Batcomputer under his ID, ready to work on his case files in peace. Every single person in the batfam secretly enjoyed this; the times when they got to be all alone in the cave, its equipment all to themselves. Hell, it felt a little bit like a power trip every time, operating in The Batman's space(even if it was theirs, too), and they were all the somewhat loner-y types, except maybe Dickface. And Bruce. Kind of. He was probably the most loner-y one of them all, but also that man clearly had an adoption problem, having gathered the most insufferable and unhinged little gaggle of Rugrats to occupy all his spaces.

It was nearly seven in the morning, and Jason had picked this specific time purposefully; even Bruce and Tim didn't usually work during this hour, conking in to be at least somewhat coherent for their day job. 

Suckers.

Imagine having a day job.

But that's when Jason had noticed it.

An alert.

His eyes ran over the flashing text briefly, before he jumped up, suddenly, the chair rolling away from the sheer force of it as Jason's frantic hands ran over the keyboard, a rush of adrenaline pumping into his veins, the deep, deep part of him that was still Robin, that still screamed about the Batman's safety making him panic.

The batsuit was damaged. The computer registered a crack in the cowl, videofeed for it no longer available, cutting off mid fight, and then there was another slew of notifications, way later, signifying that the belt's protective traps had been set off.

“Fuck!” Jason swore as the realized that the most vital trackers on the batsuit weren't responding, and that Bruce was missing, and he'd gone fucking missing hours ago-

Jason had never run up the stairs to the Manor so fucking fast.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

“What do you mean father's missing?!” Damian screamed, all of the batkids and even Alfred having assembled in the cave, Barbara connected to them through the comms.

Tim was typing incessantly on the computer, tracking the last locations that the trackers had pinged, calculating the possible routes Batman had taken based on their location.

“We need to find him!” The youngest Wayne roared, pointing at their incased suits, as if it wasn't what they were already doing. The room was solemn with the weight of the time that had passed already, since Bruce's disappearance.

Dick's hand landed on Damian's shoulder, making the kid flinch and level his brother with a cold glare.

Dick tried to smile at him reassuringly. He was already here during vacation, which was fortunate, because Dick knew he would have hurried here immediately as soon as he heard the news, day job be damned.

“We will.” He said, in an effort to pacify. “We'll definitely find B, don't worry, Dami.”

The kid only made his signature ‘tt’ sound, turning away angrily, teeth grinding almost audibly. It was understandable that he was scared for his father, their father, even if he showed it by lashing out.

“B patrolled solo yesterday, didn't he?” Stephanie asked. She'd spent the night with Cass, in her room, both of them forgoing patrol to hang out and watch movies, something Bruce usually encouraged from his kids, even if the man was too stubborn to take his own advice and rest himself. Being a workaholic was maybe a requirement for this family.

Tim was busy with Wayne Industries work at the time, trying to secure them a big contract and speaking with people on the company phone, couped up in the study, so he hadn't even come down to the cave once, despite working late into the night. Too late, in fact, probably, as Bruce often checked in on him when he came back from patrol, ensuring that Tim actually slept, Alfred's pointed glare not working enough as a deterrent most days. Damian was busy with a school project and Dick had just gotten to the Manor which also served as a distraction for the both of them. And Duke was the only non-nocturnal vigilante in the family, so he'd fallen asleep at about ten, too exhausted from both school and his daily patrol. Even the ever vigilant Babs was busy, spending her evening with her dad and away from technology, the commissioner getting a rare, well deserved break. Alfred always had his hands full, so there were no surprises there, and Jason had simply kept busy in crime alley, and it's not like B even sent out a distress signal, otherwise, the whole family would have known already.

Still, the weight of them not checking in on their father hung heavily in the air, irrational yet persistent. Of course something had to go wrong on the only night Bruce didn't have backup, the universe playing a cruel joke on them all.

“I suggest you put on the costumes.” Oracle said, a separate screen suddenly displaying a grainy video of a red blur appearing in some lab-like facility before the feed had caught off, black object flying towards the camera at the last seconds smeared, but unmistakable on the slowed down footage.

“Right, B and Superman were working on something together this week, weren't they?..” Duke breathed out, Cass nodding in acknowledgement.

It wasn't at all surprising. Everyone in the family knew Clark dropped by often, especially when Bruce was patrolling alone. They also occasionally worked cases together, outside of the JL business, even if Bruce was still prickly about that sort of thing despite years of close friendship and working with the man.

But it was concerning.

What force could possibly take both Batman and Superman out simultaneously?..

A chill went through the cave.

Alfred was frowning deeply, his usual stoic demeanor cracking.

“I'll call all of you out of school for the day.” The butler announced. Of course, there were no protests.

“Oh, Alfred, could you please also notify the W.E. office that B and I are not coming in today?” Tim absently added, before continuing his other train of thought. “Babs, the last location of the belt you sent me doesn't match the one from the vid.”

Their unofficial grandfather nodded with an “Of course, Master Timothy.” before promptly disappearing up the stairs.

“We'll split into three search teams, I can't find either Batman or Superman on any other video feeds in the city, yet my data from Metropolis suggests Clark hadn't returned to his apartment or the farm either. Nor are there any signs of him at Lois and Jeb’s place, or even the Daily Planet. I haven't detected any flight patterns that match his since yesterday evening, and all those are in bounds of Gotham.”

The vigilantes hurried to slip on their uniform; everyone except Tim, who was too busy assisting Babs in her search for the moment.

“Dick, Dami, you're together, I'm sending you the coordinates of the lab from the footage.” Tim said, the vigilantes already hurrying away, Damian practically running.

“I just found footage of Superman flying, it's too slow so the satellite didn't ping it as him, I think. Jason, Duke, you're on that.” Babs relayed.

“Got it.” Jason soluted stiffly, the only one in his uniform already, so he went for his bike, grabbing the domino and the helmet on the way, Duke joining him in record speed, the batmobile already taking off with both Nightwing and Damian inside.

“Cass and Steph, you're going to follow the tracker on B’s belt, it went further than the other leads we have.” Tim relayed, both of the girls simply nodding before disappearing into the darkness of the cave, already on their way.

“I've got this, Tim. Go after them, they might need back up.” Babs’ voice sounded, and Tim paused in his frantic typing, jumping out of the seat and nodding, soon joining the girls as they hopped onto their own bikes.

The sounds of the engines sped away from the cave, Batcomputer blinking green as it was taken over by Oracle.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

With the exception of Duke the Bats rarely operated in the light of day, but this morning, with the whole family mobilized, the comm line was incredibly busy, even if there was no usual lightheaded chatter or bantering to accompany it. Barbara's hands were flying on her keyboard, everything from news to the camera footage and gps signals blinking in and out on the different screens. A notification from Superboy flickered on her phone, the same lighting up on the big screen.

“I've managed to contact Kon-El, and he confirmed what we already know.” Barbara said. ”He also can't locate their heartbeats. He says he will be here shortly.”

“Keep him away.” Dick’s voice crackled through the line, unusually harsh. “If Superman is down then they definitely have something that can hurt him.”

Another notification pops up, the Super clearly listening in already. “He says he's still coming.” Barbara relays. “Nightwing, Robin, he'll be at your location shortly.”

There was a frustrated noise coming from Damian on the comms. “He's here already.” The boy confirmed, grimly.

“We've scouted the location. Superboy says it is lined with lead, but it doesn't seem like there are any men left inside, we're coming in soon.” Nightwing's voice echoed.

As soon as he stopped speaking, Duke's voice crackled through the comms.

“We're here. Hood and I found a broken in warehouse. There are signs of gunfire. No men around. We're going in, too.”

“Good. Keep me updated. I'm looking through the news feeds and some encrypted channels, but so far I see no signs of them.” Oracle replied.

“We're on location.” Steph's voice came in, hushed. It was a sign in and of itself. “I think we found the perpetrators. Black Bat and Red Robin went around to scout for more possible dangers and entry routes. I'm keeping an eye on the entrance. There are a lot of men and they seem to be moving something. Might need back up.”

“Don't come in.” Barbara cut in, brows creasing in concern as she switched to another keyboard. “I'm hacking the nearby cameras. Going to try and see into the building.”

On her other screen, the damaged footage from the cowl was still being processed and recovered, progress bar slowly filling.

“Superboy here.” A new voice chimed, Kon probably receiving a spare communicator from Dick. “There's definitely kryptonite involved. I can still feel its traces. Staying back for now.”

“The place B and Supes raided is ransacked. It seems someone had to hastily move their operation, probably to your location, Spoiler. We found a few batarangs and signs of a struggle. I think they might have been transporting weapons, there are container marks on the floor and a few suspicious remnants in the empty boxes.” Nightwing added. “Something doesn't feel right.”

“Found a small chunk of Kryptonite.” Damian’s voice sounded. “These criminals were careless. I'm putting it in a container for safekeeping.”

“There doesn't seem to be anything else we can find here, but we'll take another look around before heading to you, spoiler.” Nightwing added for his little brother.

“I’ll take both of you there.” Kon's distant voice sounded, almost as if he didn't mean to speak into his communicator at the same time as Jason said:

“There's a hole in the roof and more signs of bullet fire. Supes and B must have crashed here, after whatever happened in the lab. Crater in the floor, too. The place is ransacked.”

Barbara frowned, pulling up satellite imagery on Jason's location.

“I- I found their capes.” Duke's voice was laced with worry as he uttered that, Jason letting out a quiet curse through his line. “They look to be cut off. I'll try to see if I can trace something.”

The picture wasn't clear yet. It seemed like Batman and Superman had been taken, but the gunfire suggested that the people behind this wanted them dead. For a few moments, the comms were eerily quiet, people taking in the new development.

There was a sound of quiet tapping that Cass sometimes did when she was too overwhelmed to speak through the comms. Then, a whooshing sound.

“Black Bat went in through the roof.” Red Robin relayed, Barbara's attention snapping back to their location. “She's just scouting, I think, and I see Superboy, Red Robin and Nightwing approaching already.”

“We're here.” Nightwing confirmed. “Going after Black Bat soon. We left the Batmobile at the other location. Superboy, you should stay back.”

There was a sound of a muffled protest on his end of the line, definitely Kon's. Barbara could still hear them quietly discussing the plan, Cass sending out another silent signal to them all that the way was clear.

“I shall take over the Batmobile.” Agent A’s voice came through the line at the cave, soothing all the kids’ worry, a little. Alfred's quiet, but powerful presence tended to have that effect on people.”Things on my end were resolved.”

“Good, thank you, agent A.” Babs said, sighing. A few more thank yous sounded through the comms.

“Fuck, I'm going to join the others. Signal, meet me at the entrance.” Jason growled, agitation clear in his voice, and Barbara was going to cut in, again, but then Duke's quiet voice sounded through the comm lines, cutting everyone off without meaning to.

“Oh. Oh no.”

Spoiler was the first one to recover, none of them used to Duke sounding like that. There was something strangely panicked in his voice. “Duke..?” She asked, “Did you find something?”

“We…” Duke gulped. “We have a huge problem.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

It took them two and a half hours to finally find them.

The break in went without a hitch, the Bats and Superboy swiftly rounding up all the men, especially when it turned out there was no kryptonite in sight. It wasn't good news; it meant that the other half of the operation had been moved somewhere, and that there were more loose ends, but at least they could grill the goons on what they knew, which wasn't much. Unfortunately, that, along with the finally recovered footage from Batman's cowl was enough to confirm what Duke had seen prior.

But, when Jason actually saw two very small boys in grimey, unmistakable superhero uniforms curled together in a fucking sewer , of all places, - and Gods, what if they encountered Killer Croc or something?! - he was pretty sure his jaw fell on the floor. Duke, standing there, by his side, was pretty much as mystified as he was, even though he was the only one who had presumably seen some version of this already.

Closing his mouth perhaps a little too tightly, Jason put a hand up to his comm.

“We found them.”

Immediate relief flooded the comm line, people confirming that they were moving to their location.

The boys didn't stir. They were crammed into a very tight space, Supes' blue clad back to them, some red bits of the torn cape still visible.

Jason looked at Duke, who winced.

Ah, fuck it. Jason was an adult, now, after all, he could deal with this and think on the uncomfortable reality of this whole mess later.

Gingerly, he reached forward, just barely able to grasp the back of the Superman suit in his fist, dragging him by the scruff fast enough so that the boy  wouldn't struggle and hurt himself, or, worse, everyone else, if he still had his superpowers, even if his intel told him that Supes didn't develop them until he was in his teens.

Everything else happened so fast. Little Clark woke up with a scared yelp, immediately putting up a struggle, and then, suddenly, there was another boy barrelling into him, Jason, in his surprise, dropping the kryptonian and almost tumbling into the dirty water.

“You little-”

Clark was already scrambling away, stopped in his tracks by a panicked Duke, spreading out his hands to stop him, Jason grabbing onto the little shit that was definitely baby Bruce and immediately letting out a curse as the fucker had bit him, right on his exposed forearm.

Clark, turning back to look at the commotion, screamed.

“Let him go!” But his attempt at tackling Jason too had been thwarted by Duke who scooped him up, subduing the struggling boy.

Bruce was growling like a feral animal and bucking wildly in his hands, and Jason cursed as he finally managed to get a good hold on him. “Fucking- Demon child! Stop struggling!” He snarled, 

“We're here to help!” Duke had urgently blurted, Clark stiffening in his arms, his expression of anguish smoothing out a little, but Bruce didn't stop growling.

“W-we’re friends, Bruce, we swear!”

Finally, Bruce had stopped struggling, recognizing his own name, but the boy was still shaking with fear and adrenaline, which wasn't much better.

Jason grimaced.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, awkwardly.

Well, this went well. If you discount the bleeding, kid sized bite mark on his forearm, that is. 

They should have waited for Dick or something. Anyone, really, besides Jason.

“Okay. Okay.” Duke soothed, biting his lip nervously. The teen seemed to be as out of his depth as Jason was, at least. “I'm- We're friends, okay, yeah? I'm gonna let you go now, Su- Clark. Don't try to run away.”

Clark didn't answer. He was pursing his lips tightly, trying to look at Duke over his shoulder before looking at little Bruce. Patiently, Duke just waited for confirmation.

Eventually, Clark nodded his head, very slowly.

Duke breathed out a huge sigh of relief.

“Ookay. I'm gonna keep a hand on your shoulder, so don't try to run away, or anything, yeah?..”

He didn't wait for confirmation this time. Slowly, like he was actually dealing with a startled animal, he stood, releasing his hold on Clark, Jason moving fully  in front of him to intercept him if he tried running.

“Good, good, thank you. Okay, uh, Jay, can you…?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jason grumbled, although the way Duke had called him by his nickname did stir something warm in him; something that made him kind of want to bristle. Duke was still very new to the family, not to mention the most weary of Jason, so he had never called him that before.

A sudden wave of anxiety made him look at the tiny Bruce.

This was… Weird.

Batman had always felt larger than life, and this- Seeing him like this, as a small, terrified child just felt… wrong.

It hadn't been something Jason could ever imagine, no matter how fucked up and crazy their lives were.

“You heard him. Don't try to run. We're not gonna hurt you.” He warned, shaking Bruce a little to release his frustration.

Little Clark's brows knitted and he levelled a stern look at Jason. Bruce growled.

Ugh, this was so fucking weird.

Slowly, he lowered the little hell spawn, - and, okay, he kind of saw where Damian got this from, now - onto the ground right in front of him. Bruce didn't move, not even trying to stand on his legs as he did, ending up sitting on the ground right up until Jason had removed his hand and took a tiny step back.

Immediately, Bruce had darted towards Clark, the boys meeting in the middle as Jason and Duke both spread out their hands in an aborted movement to intercept them.

Fortunately, they didn't need to.

Jason's mouth fell open again, as the boys hugged, Bruce throwing a glare and snarling at him over his shoulder, Clark looking at him as well, two pairs of eyes, one greyish and the other inhumanly blue staring at him, big like saucers.

It was probably then that Bruce's eyes finally caught on the holsters of his guns.

His little face had gone deathly pale, the shaking starting up all over again, and Clark seemed to notice his distress from how tight Bruce was probably clutching onto him, also looking at Jason before his eyes had gone really wide.

Ah, fuck.

They definitely should have waited for Nightwing.

Chapter Text

“Fuckin- finally! What took you so long?” Jason grumbled, as soon as Nightwing and the other heroes made it to their location.

It took a moment for the new arrivals to come to terms with what they were actually seeing. Indeed shrunken, their dads stood there, clinging to each other and looking like they went through hell. The uniforms and the kids themselves were covered in dust and dirt, a nasty looking cut on little Bruce's head, and Dick was willing to bet there were definitely some unseen scrapes and bruises hiding under their clothes.

For one long, tense moment no one dared moving, a silent staring contest happening as the kids took in the suddenly crowded sewers. Noticing that their little dad was already on the verge of hyperventilating Dick immediately took off his domino, smiling in a way he had hoped would be reassuring. There shouldn't have been any cameras around, and Oracle was watching out for them, anyway, so he crouched, trying to seem as approachable as possible.

“Hey, hey, it's okay, no need to be scared.” In his lifetime Dick had to comfort plenty of scared civilians, a lot of them children. Heck, he had seen the Batman himself do it, handing out lollipops and bandages with colorful pictures that he always seemed to be carrying in his utility belt.

“Actually, let me introduce myself. I'm Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. And these,” he motioned to the awkwardly gathered heroes, all with various shades of discomfort or bafflement on their faces.”Are my friends and family.”

Briefly, he looked towards the others, particularly concerned about Dami and how he was taking seeing his father like that. From first impressions alone both Clark and Bruce seemed to be about his age, maybe a tad younger, and something like that was bound to mess with the kid’s head. Damian looked stiff, eyes under the domino no doubt boring into the two kids with the intensity only the bats were capable of, his jaw set. By his side, not hovering, thankfully, was Superboy, who couldn't stop staring at Clark, an expression of mild discomfort on his face mixing with confusion and relief. It was actually super sweet, how fast he’d come, knowing that Clark had been in danger. Dick didn't know much, but he'd heard about the tumultuous relationship the two Supers had had, especially at the start. It seemed that things between them had smoothed out considerably, now, especially when Kon grew closer to Jon. Then again, all the supers were incredibly nice; Kon would have probably showed up regardless, whether he and Clark had been fighting or not.

Cass and Steph were standing close to each other, a few ways away from the rest, like they tended to do. Cass had taken off the mask, just like Dick did, Steph following suit, and now they were both smiling at the kids reassuringly. Tim was the only one that had caught Dick's eye, motioning nigh imperceptibly with his head towards the corner they just rounded in a signal that he was gonna slink off and talk through a plan with Babs while he sorted things here.

Dick turned back to little Bruce and Clark, a sunny smile on his face.

“We are here to help.”

Little Clark, - and, wow, that cute little ‘s’ curl had been there since the start, hadn't it? - looked at the gathered people nervously. Him and B were practically hugging, and Nightwing tried very hard not to coo at that, but there was also an unsettling kind of desperation in that gesture. They clearly grew pretty close in the short time they had spent as kids, already, no doubt due to awful circumstances. Still, Dick figured Clark was probably going to be easier to convince than Bruce, their slightly smaller father looking pale and still as a statue, a frown on his face making him uncannily resemble Dami.

Nervously, Clark cleared his throat, before speaking. His voice was hoarse, making Dick's heart seize in sympathy.

“You're… Not going to hurt us, right..?”

He looked towards Dick, eyes catching on the escrima sticks on his back, then Damian, with his sheathed katana, before quickly taking in the other people; much less visibly armed. Then, he threw a weary look at Jason, who, ever since the start of this whole thing, had been subtly trying to cover his guns, a kid sized bite mark on his forearm clearly telegraphing how his and Duke's attempt at wrangling the kids went.

Dick didn't know how he'd only just noticed that little Bruce was keeping an eye on Jason, in particular, half turned to him the whole time, barely concealed panic visible in his every little twitch.

“Of course not.” He reassured, gently. “We just want to take you to a safe place, I promise.”

Clark's eyes shone with hope, at that, his whole little face lighting up for a moment, but then, it immediately dimmed, and he looked at Bruce, searching for something in the other boy. There was a long stretch of silence before Clark turned back to Dick. At some point Duke had shuffled awkwardly out of the way, now standing behind the kids with Jason, keeping an eye on them but also trying to not be too obviously blocking their path.

Clark opened his mouth.

“We… I don't know how we got here. I… I just woke up in that building, wearing these strange clothes.” His little hand squeezed Bruce’s, the other boy's lips thinning. It was the same case for him as well, Dick surmised. “I want to go home…”

His big blue eyes looked a little wet.

“That’s okay. We don't know what happened, either, but we are going to help you find out, okay? I just need you to trust us on this.” He tried to pick his words very carefully. “Would you come with us?...With me and my family? We're going to take you both to the Manor and take care of your injuries. It's safe there.”

A flash of, no doubt, recognition, flickered on little Bruce's face. Dick smiled, before confirming.

“The Wayne Manor. It's where Bruce, here, lives.” He explained, for Clark's sake, nodding at the other boy. That seemed to draw another silent glance between the two, this time, Bruce very slowly nodding in confirmation.

Clark glanced back at Dick, then at Bruce again, and at Dick. He was chewing on his lip nervously, for a long time, before speaking.

“Okay.” He said, as he made up his mind, entirely too sincere and trusting. Dick was a little worried that Bruce wasn't going to budge in the same way that he had, as the kid still hadn't uttered a single word, but then he nodded, very slightly, both sets of eyes now staring at Dick.

It felt like am invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. At this exact moment, Babs' voice crackled in his ear.

“There's an exit through an abandoned building up ahead. Take two rights and you'll be there. Agent A had already sent the Batmobile your way.”

Thank gods for Babs and Agent A, Dick thought. Timmy probably had a hand in this as well, seeing as he still hadn't rejoined them.

“I’ll take you to our car, okay?” He asked, gently, waiting for two confirming nods before looking at the other vigilantes that had gathered here, silently communicating a message that they'll reconvene at the Manor.

Then, he stood up, slowly. And, as soon as he did, Damian finally spoke up.

“I'll ride with Todd.” He mumbled, gruffly. Everyone looked towards the youngest Wayne(or was he the youngest, now..?) in surprise. “Thomas, you go with them.”

“Oh joy.” Jason quipped, rolling his eyes under the mask at the same time as Duke let out an uncertain: “Um… Okay.”

The girls gave little Clark and Bruce a friendly, awkward wave, Steph saying that they'll see each other later before disappearing in the same direction as Tim. Jason and Damian were already on their way, too, Jason passing by making little Bruce flinch.

“Um, I'll go too, I guess.” Kon had said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“You sure?” Dick asked immediately. “You can stay with us, if you want.” 

But the super just shook his head.

“I probably need to tell everyone on our side what happened. Also, someone has to fill in for, uh. You know. I'll see you guys later.” He said, before also walking behind the nearest corner, presumably to cover him flying off, but not before throwing one last glance at Clark.

“Thanks for the help, Kon.” Dick said, not raising his voice and knowing that the other would hear. “You're free to come by anytime you want.” Finally, he turned his full attention to the kids, smiling again.

“Okay, it's our time to depart now, too.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The ride home was quiet, Dick smiling every time he would catch little Bruce or Clark looking at him in the rear view mirror. Both of the kid's eyes looked kind of droopy, but they stubbornly stayed up, understandably not fully sure if they were safe or could trust their rescuers just yet, their hands never unlinking.

As he parked the Batmobile in the cave he exchanged a glance with Duke, the teen nodding before unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out, Dick turning back to the kids.

“We're almost there. Right now we are under the Manor, in a place we use to help us get patched up, if we get injured.” Dick explained, not sure if elaborating further was safe yet. “We'll just look at your scrapes first, and then we'll go upstairs, okay?”

Little Clark nodded, Bruce just staring at him, silently, in a way Dick was starting to get used to. He smiled again, before unbuckling his own seatbelt and getting out.

Understandably, the kids looked both in awe and a little frightened of the Batcave. Dick led them up the steps and to the platform where Alfred was waiting, already, sounds of bike tires coming from the cave's many tunnels heralding the arrivals of the rest of the batkids.

But, as soon as little Bruce saw Alfred, however, he froze, stopping both himself and Clark in their tracks, the other boy glancing at him with curious worry.

“Master Bruce…”

It was the first time Dick saw such an unsure expression on the old butler's face. A little alarmingly, the stoic old butler looked like he wanted to run to his charge and envelop him in a hug, but, for some unknown reason, was holding himself back with some difficulty. Straightening, finally, after a brief moment of weakness, Alfred smiled, politely, something about him falling back on the role of the unflappable butler feeling almost uncanny .

Bruce's eyes widened.

“Alfred…” The boy breathed out. His eyes were taking in every little detail, roaming over his butler, noting all the ways he was different from what he remembered. He seemed to almost be in a trance, for the first time his childish features fully smoothing out, making him look even younger, like the actual lost and confused child that he was.

By his side, Clark tilted his head at him like a curious puppy.

Their eyes met, briefly, and then Bruce cleared his throat, looking away.

Dick didn't miss the way he'd slipped his hand out of Clark's hold, suddenly looking a lot more prim and proper in his dirty clothes. Something pained flashed in the butler's eyes.

“You look different.” Bruce said, his voice carefully toneless. Near him, Clark awkwardly fiddled with his hands, almost as if he didn't know what to do with them, now, also looking at Alfred.

“A lot has happened, sir.” Alfred uttered, not unkindly, eyes briefly sweeping over the rest of the family, as they finally assembled and were climbing the steps up to the main platform. Being the detectives that they were, they had definitely already noticed that things were amiss, even if no one dared comment.  

“Welcome home, Master Bruce, Master Clark. Please, follow me.”

And with that, Alfred had walked off briskly, Clark blushing bright red at the way he was addressed before hurrying after him and Bruce to the medbay.

Dick could feel his own brows furrow. Jason sauntered up to him, helmet now held loosely under his arm. He lifted his eyebrow at Dick.

And Dick could only shrug in response.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

It wasn't long before the kids’ wounds were properly sanitized and bandaged, Alfred quietly frowning in displeasure as he worked, and they were out of the medbay in new, borrowed clothes, with scans of their bodies discreetly taken in for analysis. Tim had asked Alfred prior for some of his childhood clothes, and his estimation about which ones would fit turned out to be right. Of course, they'd probably have to shop for some more clothes in the future, since they didn't know how long B and Clark would be stuck like this, but it would have to do for the time being.

The plain red shirt and black shorts Clark was given had hung a little loosely on his body, a few darkening bruises visible on his legs and arms. As soon as he left the medbay, Clark was immediately greeted by the sight of their unmasked saviours, the boy fiddling slightly with the hem of his shirt. Bruce, who had come out right after, was dressed very similarly, except his grey shirt seemed even bigger on him, and both his hands and his head were properly bandaged. They looked so cute like this; and Dick couldn't suppress a smile anymore as he gave them a little wave. Now that he could properly look at them, free of all the dirt and in proper lighting, it was painfully clear just how scrawny and small little Bruce was. He had a thin face, paleness accentuated by his dark, straight hair. It was especially apparent when he was standing right next to Clark, who, despite them probably being the exact same age, looked a bit bigger and had a healthy tan. Clark was actually closer in height and build to Damian, but his features were considerably rounder, dark hair falling in loose, bouncy curls, and he had these really cute cheeks that Dick kind of wanted to pinch. Oh gods, was he turning into one of those awful socialite grandmas at Bruce's God awful Galas…? His family could literally never find out about this, or Dick would never live this down.

It was an interesting picture regardless. When they were older, Bruce and Clark were a lot more similar in their stature and build, and, even though he'd seen the infamous pictures of eight year old Bruce, it was still hard to imagine that this kid would grow up to be the tall and imposing Batman. By his side, Damian let out a little huff, almost as if he was thinking the same thing. There was no denying that this Bruce wouldn't even stand a chance in a fight with his youngest right now, even discounting Damian’s League training.

Dick lightly clasped his hands, pushing off the table he had been leaning against.

“Okay, I think proper introductions are in order.” He sent the kids another smile. “I already introduced myself, earlier, I'm Dick.”

“You've already met Alfred Pennyworth,” He motioned towards the butler, again, just for Clark's sake, then to the other members of the family, in order.” Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Timothy Drake...”

Both Cassie and Tim had piped with their nicknames of “Just Cass.” and “Tim”.

“-Duke Thomas and…” Dick paused, briefly. This… This might have been a little hard to explain. He had a feeling that little Bruce had already suspected what happened, just from seeing Alfred. But, also, if whatever happened here had actually brought Bruce and Clark from the past here, then they couldn't risk telling them everything and possibly ruining the timeline. The kids had already seen too much, and further explanations would have to wait until they've confirmed that it would be safe.

“Damian Al Ghul.” He added, with a little apologetic glance to Damian, who only frowned deeply, but didn’t object.

Clark gave them an unsure little smile.

“I- I guess you already know, but I'm Clark. Clark Kent. Thank you for helping us.”

Ahh, he was such a polite little boy. The urge to pinch his cheeks grew harder, a smile breaking out on Dick's face. Clark was probably the most normal kid who had ever stepped foot in the Manor.

Imagine being well adjusted.

The horror.

“I'm Bruce Wayne.” Bruce's quiet voice sounded; small, yet so serious. “I'm… Thankful to you all, as well.”

Jason demonstratively snorted. It earned a stern look from Dick as little B pursed his lips, looking a little apologetic for the bandage that was now covering the man's forearm.

“Young masters can continue this conversation later. It is about time for everyone to head up to the Manor.” Alfred's voice sounded, always the saving grace, the butler appearing again after presumably putting away the medical equipment. “Young Master Bruce and Master Clark look awfully tired and are in need of a rest.”

As if on cue, Clark's stomach growled, the boy's face heating in embarrassment.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, Alfred's gaze softening.

“After having a proper meal, of course.” The butler added, Clark giving him a tiny smile.

It wasn't long until they made their way up the stairs and through the grandfather clock exit, two pairs of blue eyes taking everything in curiously.

Despite Tim wanting to stay in the Cave to contact Zatanna and the League and Jason immediately trying to bulshit his way out of it with some ‘urgent business’, everyone still ended up in the kitchen after a very pointed(and downright terrifying, to people who knew better) glare from Alfred.

It felt like it's been an awfully long time since they had all gathered under one roof.

Jason had rarely dropped by even if he and Bruce had stopped actively snapping at each other months ago, his relationships with his siblings also switching from actively hostile to tolerant and occasionally even friendly. Dick was usually too busy in Blüdhaven, and, admittedly, had often skipped out on his chances to drop by without it being a necessity. Cass often stayed at Steph's or with Babs, and Tim spent a lot of his time with Young Justice. So, in the end, the only permanent residents of the Manor were Bruce, Alfred, Damian and Duke. And, with the way their schedules were packed, they didn't see each other all that often, either. 

So it was a little awkward, even discounting the two (small) elephants in the room when they all sat down in the spacious kitchen. Alfred looked quietly delighted, though, even if a tad somber.

Clark kept looking around curiously, quietly amazed at the Manor and all its Gothic and occasionally modern grandeur. Unconsciously, though, his eyes seemed to be always straying back to Bruce, the other kid simply remaining quiet and contemplative without returning those little glances.

The table was mostly silent. There was a chorus of thankyous to Alfred for the food, the butler always cooking for more than enough people; Duke, Steph and Cass helping distribute the plates in no time while the others quietly looked out for the kids.

Clark was the first to have finished his plate, and the boy must have been ravenous, because he blushed furiously in shame when he was offered a second portion, before gratefully accepting. Like the sweet little Midwestern boy that he was, he had also complimented Alfred on his cooking, receiving a pleased eye twinkle from the butler. Little Bruce ate almost everything he'd been given, only a bit of mashed potatoes remaining on his plate once he was done, before pushing it away. The vigilantes had also happily finished their portions, ravenous after all the energy they had spent earlier, Alfy’s cooking always being the best. At some point Dick tried to make Damian eat a little more, pointing out Clark and saying that growing boys needed sustenance, to which Damian snapped that he was not a child before promptly storming off.

Slowly, the rest of the people had trickled out of the kitchen, Dick and Alfred assuring everyone that they would be fine showing the kids to their rooms.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The Manor looked different.

It looked… Older, even though Bruce couldn't exactly parse why. Just like Alfred, it seemed to have aged significantly in the blink of an eye; some of the decorations in the wrong places, some vases and portraits missing and some other trinkets added in their stead. The feeling was unnerving. He recognized it, but at the same time he didn't.

He recognized Alfred, but at the same time he didn't.

Quietly observing, Bruce made his way after the butler, Clark trailing right next to him, the person who introduced himself earlier as Richard Grayson closely on their heels

Richard clearly knew the Manor well.

All of the people he'd met today did, moving about a space in a way only years of being familiar with it would bring. It wasn't hard to notice that, especially with how many times Bruce had stumbled upon lost guests that had visited the Manor years ago for the famous Wayne Galas.

Many rooms they had passed that were previously empty now seemed occupied, from what Bruce could tell just by looking at them. Some doors were different; one of them even having a barely concealed scratch, almost as if something sharp had been taken to it, and another having a silly note stuck to it reading ‘no entry’.

The sight left unease churning in Bruce's gut.

This was his home.

And it was suddenly full of strangers, whereas before, it had just been him and Alfred; the occasional gardener or support staff coming in when needed.

Bruce didn't like strangers being here.

It made his skin crawl; sticky uneasiness and anger mixing in his chest, hands balling up into fists as he tried to just quietly breathe through it. On the edge of his vision Clark's face appeared, the taller boy looking at him with innocent nervousness and concern, almost as if he'd sensed what Bruce was thinking.

Bruce's cheeks heated. He'd… Cried in front of Clark, embarrassment at his earlier conduct rippling through him in a wave of shame. And now that things had calmed down it was a little hard, looking at the other boy, especially with how naively sincere Clark was being.

Bruce's hand tingled with the lingering warmth from them holding hands earlier.

He met Clark’s eyes.

Immediately, Clark's face lit up in a smile, something easing in Bruce despite himself.

“Here is your room, Master Bruce.”

Bruce blinked, stopping. He didn't notice when Alfred or Richard had stopped in front of a dark, hardwood door. It… This wasn't where his previous room had been. This… This was supposed to be one of the guest rooms, with a spacious library nearby, wasn't it? Bruce didn't think he'd been here more than a few times, before. But then… What happened to his old room..? Panic flickered in his chest before he forcefully swallowed it down. He took in a small, tight breath before carefully saying:

“Thank you, Alfred.”

It came out surprisingly even.

“Master Clark's room will be right next to yours, sir.” The butler's voice came. “Master Richard, can I trouble you to get Master Bruce situated?”

Bruce didn't flinch at Alfred choosing to let Richard to get to do this, but it was a close thing. Alfred calling other people “Master” was another new thing, too.

He stepped forward quickly.

“That would be unnecessary. I can do this myself.” He tugged on the door handle before entering, having to really pull it; his hands stinging yet again as the heavy door caved.

But, before he could shut the door in everyone's faces, finally left all alone with his thoughts, Alfred's hand landed on it, grasping lightly and stopping Bruce right in his tracks.

“Master Bruce.” He said, some unknowable emotion in his eyes; one Bruce didn't want to dwell on too much, his throat closing involuntarily just by looking at it. “If… If you need anything, please find me.”

For a moment, they all just stood there, Bruce looking Alfred in the eyes.

Then, Richard threw a worried glance towards Bruce's butler, and the illusion had been shattered.

“Or anyone else, okay?” Richard added, a kind, purposefully cheery smile that kind of made Bruce want to bristle on his face again. “We will all be happy to help, I promise.”

Bruce didn't nod.

“Thank you.” He said, out of politeness. It was more a dismissal, than anything, his eyes catching on Clark's anxious expression one last time.

“I will wake you in a few hours, sir.” Alfred said, emotion still seeping into his usually impassive voice that just made Bruce feel even worse. Alfred withdrew his hand. “Before that, please, try to get some rest.”

He nodded, finally shutting the door.

Bruce did not turn towards his new room until the sounds of their steps had died down in the hallway, breath growing shaky in the stillness.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

A shy little knock at his door startled Bruce from where he'd been laying in a huge, empty bed, uselessly trying to get even a modicum of sleep and staring at the carved sealing. He immediately sat up, anxiety seizing his throat and heart thundering in his ears. It was barely twenty minutes since he'd been left alone, even if it felt like hours.

It was okay. Everything was going to be okay, and he might have even believed it if he kept telling himself that.

He tried speaking, but his voice didn't come out, only a pathetic little breathy noise escaping.

His hands balled up in the sheets.

“Bruce?..”

It was Clark.

The relief that Bruce felt at that was immeasurable, and he wiped at his eyes quickly, not sure why they suddenly welled up with tears.

When he finally made himself a little more presentable, he tried speaking again, hoping against everything that Clark wasn’t gone already.

“Come in.” He said, quietly, but it seemed that Clark heard him anyway, because soon the boy was slipping into the room, self-consciousness dusting his cheeks pink.

“I- I'm sorry, I didn't wake you, did I..?”

Bruce shook his head no, Clark awkwardly standing by the door and fiddling with his clothes. Still, he seemed relieved at the answer.

Clark tried smiling again. But it came out a little strained.

“Sorry…” He said. “I just… It's really… Big and kind of empty here, and I couldn't sleep.”

Bruce blinked.

He… understood that.

This… Everything was so different. And he missed his old bed, his old clothes, his old home but it wasn't there anymore; wasn't there for what felt like a long time already.

Bruce wanted to be strong. He had to be strong, but he just wasn't , he was never good enough, wasn't sure he could ever be good enough, and he was just so angry, and scared, and he missed his-

“Are you… Are you okay?”

He blinked.

Clark had stepped closer, concern etched clearly on his features.

“Bruce..?”

The boy was looking at him with so much worry. And Bruce wasn't even the one who was stuck with people he didn’t know at all, in a place he didn't know, but Clark was worried about him, somehow.

He wiped at his eyes again hastily.

Bruce still felt awful. But… But somehow, Clark was here, and it… It was something.

He blushed a little, embarrassed at what he was about to do.

Then, he patted the bed awkwardly.

The way Clark's eyes shone with relief and gratitude was maybe a fair price to pay for the embarrassment he felt.

He wasn't a kid anymore. He didn't need someone to sleep next to him, no matter how many nightmares he had. But he still felt a tinge of relief when Clark climbed into bed next to him, first uncertain, then smiling as Bruce pulled the covers open invitingly, the two of them scooting under them until they were laying face to face in the middle of the bed.

“Thank you.” Clark whispered, with a shy smile.

Their hands were lying really close on the mattress. Almost close enough to touch, and even though they had held hands already, Bruce's heart still did something weird at that.

And, even though he was still exhausted, and uncertain, and scared, he let a small, tired smile of his own tug at his lips. Clark's eyes widened, the boy’s face reddening, a little.

Bruce didn't remember how he'd fallen asleep after that. They didn't really talk. Just laid there, quietly, listening to the birds outside and the occasional creaking of the old wood in the Manor, until the darkness took them.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

He wasn't there.

Dick had immediately rushed to the bathroom, but little Clark wasn't there either, only the disturbed covers of the bed signifying that he'd been here at all.

Dick frowned, immediately going to check in the next room over, slightly alarmed but not ready to round up the family yet.

And, as soon as he slipped into Bruce's room he felt his shoulders ease, two adorable boys curled up on the bed and fast asleep after all of the night's exhaustion.

Dick couldn't help but let out an audible “Phew” as he quietly crept through the room and towards the bed, allowing himself to look on for a few precious moments.

And it was just so cute.

Who would have thought that THE Batman and Superman would end up being so aggressively adorable as kids.

Dick was honestly worried seeing how distant and quiet little Bruce had been acting as soon as they got to the cave, something almost switching in the boy when he saw Alfred, the old butler's reaction alarming in its own right. But this; seeing their small dad and his (also small) future best friend asleep on the same bed had finally eased some of his worries. At least the boys had each other.

With the practiced ease of an acrobat Dick had slipped out of the room and into the hallway, steps light as he made his way into the cave. Most of the batkids, except Jason, who had simply left them to deal with everything on their own now that they'd found the kids, and Damian, who had been insisting that he was fine but was still sulking in the garden had gathered here already.

“They’re both asleep in B's bed.” Dick announced, flopping into one of the chairs near the table, a big toothy smile on his face. “And that was like the cutest thing I've ever seen .”

Steph snorted.

“We're never letting B-man live this down after this is over, right?” She asked, Dick and Tim sending her dual smirks, Tim even pausing in his typing and half turning in his chair for that. Cassandra just smiled. Duke, being the most recent addition to the family and still not entirely used to the way of his troublemaking siblings just looked on in admonishment.

“You should have gotten pictures.” Tim said, wisely, as he finished sifting through the old records before finally spinning around in the chair to face them.

“Next time.” Dick promised with a wide grin. “So, how's it going? Any more leads yet?” 

He nodded towards the Batcomputer.

They'd already gotten word about Zatanna, the mage still being off-world but hopefully returning in a few days at the League's estimation. So, if it was magic making Bruce and Clark small, then it would be covered. Time travel was also a possibility they were unable to rule out fully, just yet, hence all the secrecy around the kids prior. Then again; time travel would have meant that Supes and one very annoyed Bat had been stuck in the past, somewhere, so there would probably be records of that; or at least signs that Bruce Wayne or Clark Kent had suddenly disappeared when they were kids. And Alfred had already said he remembered no such thing, at least on Bruce's end, so that made it the least likely scenario.

Firstly; Bruce's cowl was split. It split, presumably, during the fight; leaving that cut that was on Bruce's forehead, the location of the cowl still pinging in the building Nightwing, Superboy and Robin had first went to at that point. Secondly, the cowl was made specifically for the adult Bruce, and, realistically, as grim as that was to think about; little Bruce would have very likely died from such a hit if he had to take it, his head not filling it out enough for the cowl to properly cushion the blow. They couldn't exactly confirm that with the footage that they had since it cut off abruptly and the quality left much to be desired. If adult Bruce was here he would probably already be cooped up in the cave trying to rectify and prepare a million contingencies for such an oversight.

Magic was likely. The group B and Supes were after dealt with illegal, rare weaponry. Anything could have happened; from the criminals expecting them to this just being a freak accident. If Dick had to try and piece together what happened in his head, it would go something like this:

Superman and Batman ambushed the first location. The goons probably used kryptonite to depower Supes during the fight, something happened; like B's cowl splitting from a hit, for example, and Superman had to evacuate them from there, which resulted in the caved-in roof and the crater that was found on the second location. His flight was slowed, so he was probably still under the effects of kryptonite, and the crash landing had happened while they were still in their adult forms, heavy and big enough for the size of the crater. Then, they woke up as kids. The criminals, meanwhile, have split their forces, moving the weaponry to different places while also sending goons after the two heroes to try and finish what they started.

Whatever happened it was certainly not something the batkids encountered before. If it was magic, then it had an interesting delay before working. Time or dimension travel would have had to preserve the damage to their forms, somehow, and leave behind clothes. And, lastly, there was maybe some alien tech involved, which would probably mean that they would have to contact the Watchtower again and possibly even take the kids to it in hopes of identifying it. Other possibilities like evil clones and mass hallucinations were obviously less likely.

It didn't really matter which one it was at the moment. First and foremost they had to locate where the criminals took the rest of the weaponry and who was behind this. And so far, this proved to be the hardest part. The perpetrators were already laying low after discovering that Superman and Batman were on their tail.

The batkids had already read through B's files on this particular bust, too, but they were clearly incomplete, in a way active investigations tended to be. If Nightwing had to guess, then this mission B went on with Big Blue last night was supposed to be a stealth one, at least until things had gone awry. Just a quick in and out, finding more leads to uncover the big picture and taking stock of what they were dealing with.

They discussed this all, for a while, Tim confirming that there was no evidence supporting Bruce Wayne or Clark Kent disappearing in their youth, at around this age, and nor are there any sightings of red blurs or bat creatures punching crooks in the face from those times.

“So… What do we do now?” Steph asked once they'd implemented everything they could think of. Babs was going to monitor criminal activity in and out of Gotham, as much as she could reach. They really couldn't let these weapons dealers slip through their fingers.

Tim was lazily spinning his chair from side to side, thinking.

“I suppose we just have to wait. The League had been informed that B and Supes are out of commission, for the moment. Zatanna will return soon and, unfortunately, the place we busted didn't produce many leads. As soon as I can I'm going to lay a few traps for the rest of the dealers, hoping that they'll want some of the weaponry we confiscated back, but acting too soon might just draw their suspicion and send them into further hiding.”

Unfortunately, waiting was their only option at the moment. They didn't tell the Justice League exactly what happened. But soon the criminal underworld would no doubt learn that something had happened to two of the world's greatest heroes, even if Barbara was already working on finding and preventing any serious information leakage on that front,and  they would start acting more openly. Kon contacted them earlier, too, saying that Clark's job was covered for, at least for the time being. If worse came to worst they might have to start writing some articles to cover for him, while he would be officially working remotely. And, as for both the older Kents, as well as Lois and Jon, they were also vaguely notified of what happened. It was unofficially decided that Clark was better off staying at the Manor, for the moment, even if Ma and Pa Kent had expressed their worry.

“I think we all are all in need of a proper rest, now.” Dick said, looking at his family. They were all out of school and work for the day, after all, and he had a feeling they might have a few gruelling days of investigative work ahead of them. And, as an incentive to keep their more work-oriented siblings from keeping on working, he added: “Alfred's baking cookies.”

Steph cheered, Cassie's face brightening up before she glanced at the monitors, indicating Barbara and knowing that she was watching.

“You're free to come by and have some, of course, O.” Dick provided, looking into one of the security cameras. “Don’t you want to take an actual look at the kids?”  

“They are very cute. Small.” Cass nodded, with all of her seriousness, and Barbara let out a little digital laugh.

“You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I suppose I can drop by later.” Oracle said, Steph letting out another cheer.

“I'm texting Jason that he's a loser and is sooo going to miss out on the cookies.” The blond announced, jumping off the table where she was sitting and already pulling out her phone, people finally relaxing and falling into the mindless chatter and bickering now that most matters were settled, at least for the time being.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Just as promised, the old butler came to wake the kids up in a few hours. It wouldn't be good for them, sleeping the whole day away, especially when they still had to try and fall asleep in the evening.

Clark blinked awake slowly.

He felt a little groggy, the hours of entirely dreamless, peaceful sleep passing in the blink of an eye.

And, just as slowly, everything came rushing back. The boy in the mask, - Bruce; the men with guns, the running, the sewers, the people in strange costumes-

He quickly sat up, heart racing.

None of it was a bad dream. This was real, and- And he was away from home, away from Ma and Pa- 

The blanket next to him stirred, some unintelligible mumble making its way through.

Clark blinked again, trying to not let his rushing emotions spill as he looked at Bruce who was curled into a little ball under a blanket. Just like it had previously, the presence of the other boy had soothed him a little.

Still, he probably looked miserable, as he turned towards Mister Pennyworth, because the old man sent him a sympathetic look.

“Everything's going to be alright, Master Clark.” The butler had promised, Clark’s cheeks heating in embarrassment again, at the ‘Master'. He’s never even seen a butler before, never even thought they were real, only a thing that appeared in cartoons. Then, he realized that he'd been caught sleeping next to Bruce, and his embarrassment only grew as he looked away shyly.

Mister Pennyworth definitely sounded incredibly amused, when he finally asked: 

“Now, shall we try and wake Master Bruce together?”

Waking Bruce up turned out to be quite a challenge. Even still, the boy looked to be falling asleep on his feet, when he finally got out of bed and was promptly shooed into the bathroom by Alfred.

After being led back to his room, Clark was instructed to take a shower. He couldn't help but marvel at the big, luxurious bath that had greeted him as soon as he stepped into the bathroom. As Alfred explained to him how to adjust the water pressure and temperature, and where the towels and spare clothes were and so on and so forth  Clark just looked on, dumbly, almost missing half of the explanation as he couldn’t stop marveling at all the amenities, feeling entirely out of his depth and overwhelmed by the whole thing.

The bathroom was so big. It was easily twice as big as the living room back at the farm, and he kind of wanted his parents to see it.

He was definitely going to tell them about this, about the whole Manor and how big it was, about the cave, and the cool black car and the big, incredibly big screens he had noticed earlier. Ma and Pa would probably want to meet Bruce and the nice people that helped them, too.

It wasn't long before both of the kids ended up back in the kitchen downstairs, the girl with the black hair, Cass, if Clark remembered correctly, looking at them with mirth in her dark eyes. Dick was standing next to her, his usual big smile on his face. But, besides them, there was another new face.

The woman in the wheelchair with red hair had introduced herself as just Barbara, and Cass had offered up that she had helped them in their search, prompting gratitude from both of the kids.

They had a late lunch, people immediately trickling into the kitchen as soon as the cookies were brought out, almost as if they'd smelled them from wherever else they were in the house. Even that stern looking boy, - Damian - had shown up, snatching a few cookies and vindictively chewing on them in the kitchen under Mister Pennyworth’s pointed glare. Clark wasn't sure why Damian didn't seem to like him or Bruce, feeling a little intimidated.

The cookies turned out to be truly delicious. Before Clark even knew it, he'd already happily scarfed down three, Bruce still quietly nibbling on his first one by his side. Clark had almost reached for another one, but then stopped, suddenly reminded of his manners and how terribly rude it would be, awkwardly pulling his hand back. But, before he could even say anything to apologize, Bruce was already pushing his own plate towards him.

Clark blinked at him in surprise.

“Are… Are you sure?”

Bruce nodded. He wasn't looking at him, just staring at some other point on the table, both of the boys completely missing the way all the eyes in the room had zeroed in on them.

When Clark hesitated, the plate was pushed more firmly towards him, making him smile.

“Thank you.” Clark said, carefully taking hold of the cookie before happily chomping it down, legs bouncing under the table. He looked at Bruce happily, eyes crinkling at the corners.

It wasn't until someone had covered their muttering of ‘ohmygod’ with a cough that both of the boys noticed that something amiss, turning to the table at large; all of the batkids suddenly pretending like they weren't completely engrossed in watching them interact mere moments prior. Dick was practically shaking with how cute and funny he was finding this whole thing, Tim fumbling with his phone like he wasn't trying to snap a picture, Duke and Steph, for their parts, looking like they were about to start whistling like they didn't want to be spotted doing something suspicious in an old-timey cartoon. Babs and Cass were the only ones successfully pretending like they were already too engrossed in their food, even if Cass couldn't quite hide her growing smile. Damian was the only unrepentant one who had levelled Clark with a deadly glare, for some reason, making the confused younger boy squirm in his chair. Bruce simply frowned.

The tea was nice, too, even if Clark would have probably put more sugar in his cup if so many people weren't watching. But, by the end of it all, when everyone was just quietly milling about the table, food and drinks mostly finished, Clark had finally dared to ask what has been bothering him since the very beginning:

“Um…”

The weight of people's attention made him squirm, but he still lifted his gaze up, looking straight at Dick as he spoke.

“I just wanted to ask if… If I could contact my parents?”

Seeing as no one had spoken up yet, Clark hastily continued.

“I'm really grateful for everything you've done for me, but my Ma and Pa must be really worried. And I… I still don't know what happened, and I just want to see them. They live in Smallville, Kansas.”

As Clark threw a brief look at Bruce, he found his resolve cracking, a little. The boy seemed to have frozen, gaze growing distant. He wasn't even blinking. But before Clark could ask Dick had already spoken:

“We actually told Martha and Jonathan Kent that you're with us.”

Clark had immediately brightened, hopeful blue eyes looking at the young man.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Dick's smile seemed to be turning apologetic, though.” They're worried, but they are glad that you're here.”

He stopped, for a single moment.

“And… I'm sorry, Clark, but you won't be able to see them, just yet.”

“Oh…” Clark deflated.

“Kansas is just very far.” Dick hurried to reassure him. “And, uh, I hope you'll be okay staying with us for a bit, while we make sure that both Bruce and you are safe. I promise you, it is absolutely necessary.”

Clark had looked down and at the floor, the earlier, easy mood that had been in the room gone in a blink.

“Okay.” He said, softly.

He didn't think Dick was lying to him. Dick was nice, and he wouldn't have done all this; they wouldn't have done all this if they wanted to deceive him and Bruce.

Slowly, Bruce had slid off his chair, people only noticing it when the boy had stepped away from the table, his small figure walking away before stopping, back to them.

“Bruce…?” Clark asked, unsure of what happened or if he'd suddenly done or said something wrong, but the other boy's tone was even.

“Thank you for the food, Alfred.” Bruce said, quiet. “I'll be in the library.”

And, with that, he walked off, tense silence growing in the kitchen.

Clark had looked around, a little anxious now that the other boy wasn't there before jumping off of his chair as well and grabbing his dishes. He had quickly deposited them by the sink, already having been reprimanded by Alfred for asking if he had needed help washing the dishes prior, but he at least could help getting them closer.

“Thank you.” Clark said quickly, before hurrying after the other boy.

Chapter Text

The library was huge. Clark couldn't help the way his little head whirled around excitedly, rows and rows of books stacked on top of shelves that stretched all the way to the high ceiling, tall enough that a ladder was needed to reach the very top. Soft evening light streamed through the windows, the sky bright but overcast by the heavy Gotham clouds.

Bruce had walked forward, slowly, while Clark was busy admiring the room, looking over books in a distant, pensive manner. Whatever he was looking for, it seemed that he didn't find it, because eventually the boy had just started to tug out random books and flip through them until finally settling on something. Clark, still in awe of the sheer luxury and a little unsure if he was even allowed to touch anything in here, had made his way over to the couch, sitting on it carefully and starting to swing his legs idly, up until Bruce had joined him, a careful distance away and a book on what looked to be paleontology cradled in his lap.

When Clark followed him here, a little worried and a lot anxious about not being near the other boy who had grown to be his source of comfort in this new, unfamiliar environment, he kind of expected to be turned away. Just like when he couldn't sleep in the guest room and hesitantly came to Bruce, hoping against hope that the other boy wouldn't mind at least talking for a bit, and that he didn't yet fall asleep. But Bruce never did turn him away. No, every step of the way, ever since they first met Bruce had been there for Clark, offering comfort and doing whatever he could to protect him.

The soft way Bruce had smiled at him when they were lying together on the bed came to mind, Clark's cheeks heating.

Clark… Really liked Bruce.

They didn't know each other for long at all, but he already felt like he could trust the other boy with anything.

And Clark wanted to be there for Bruce, too.

“Are you okay?”

Bruce blinked at him in surprise. Clark fiddled with his clothes.

“You… You seemed sad, when we sat in the kitchen. And you… You left so abruptly.” He explained. Bruce seemed to think on his answer, expression turning pensive.

After a stretch of silence, Bruce finally asked:

“What would you do if you couldn't leave?”

Clark stilled.

“Um..” The sudden spike of worry made Clark's brows furrow. He had to unclench his hands from where they were still tugging at his clothes.” I… I don't know… Why..?”

Bruce looked away.

“What if… if everything changed?” He continued, something distant in his eyes  and only confusing Clark further. “What if things weren't like you remembered them? What if your parents…”

Bruce stuttered, a little, on the word ‘parents’.

“What if they were… different?”

“I don't understand…” Clark shook his head, worriedly trying to look Bruce in the eyes.

“They lied.”

“Huh?..”

“Richard Grayson.” Bruce clarified. “He… He lied to you.”

What..?

Clark felt his heart sink.

No- No it couldn't be-

“But… Dick knew my Ma and Pa’s names.” He pointed out, not wanting to believe it.

Bruce shook his head.

“Not about that. They… aren't telling us everything.”

Clark looked away, overwhelmed and shaking his head in denial.

“But they helped us.” He tried. “They… They brought us here, even gave us food and these clothes…”

He couldn't explain it. Maybe it was just the naive kid part of him, but he wanted to trust them. He needed to. And it wasn't like he didn't already think that there could be more that they weren't telling them, that the people that brought them here could be lying, but…

“They… they seem nice.” Clark managed to say, finally, his whole demeanor deflating. Bruce didn't answer him. The boy's face only closed off further, a shadow falling over his eyes. Following his gaze, Clark traced it to the square patterns of light on the floor, the silhouette of the couch outlined in evening light, the very tops of boys' heads barely visible above it.

“Why do you think they aren't telling us everything?” Clark asked.

His lip stung a little, from how much he was biting on it the whole day. He wondered if Bruce's hands still stung. And, most of all, Clark felt tired. Worried. He wanted to go home. He didn't want Dick, and Mister Pennyworth, and the rest to really turn out to be bad people.

“The Manor is different.” Bruce explained. “And Alfred is…”

He stopped. Closed his eyes.

“Older. Much older than I remember him.”

Clark felt a shiver run down his spine, something odd in Bruce's voice as he continued.

“Everything is… Different.” Bruce finished, letting the tense silence envelop them once more. But Clark could see the rigid way he had held himself, the tiredness in his frame and the sheer sadness that the boy seemed to radiate.

Finally, the scattered pieces were starting to fall into a bigger picture. The crater, the strange, ill fitting clothes, the men with guns. And this… this feeling, that something was familiar even though it wasn't.

“The books, earlier…” Clark finally asked, realizing that Bruce was not just browsing through , he was checking for something, and then that meant… “You think we're…”

Clark's eyes widened. Bruce shook his head.

“I don't know.”

Not for sure.

Clark felt he couldn't even cry. Fear was choking his throat, a feeling that's been familiar and ever present since he woke up in that warehouse. He must have looked truly miserable, because Bruce spoke again:

“Sorry.”

Clark looked at him, feeling so entirely lost but thoughts halting at the unexpected apology.

Bruce's lips were pressed tight together, the knuckles that were poking out of the bandages white where they were gripping the book.

And then it came to Clark.

Bruce was here. 

And Bruce probably felt just as scared and lost as Clark, even if he tried putting on a brave face. This was… This was supposed to be his home, and yet Bruce couldn't seem to recognize it fully. Clark didn't even want to think about if this same thing had happened to the farm.

“It's okay.” Clark managed to get out, voice small and smile a little strained. “I.. I mean it's not, but… Thank you for telling me.”

Bruce nodded.

If you looked close enough, you could see that the squares of light on the floor moved. Slightly, ever so slightly, they inched further as the two boys sat there, for what felt like hours.

“I…” Clark gulped, feeling the sudden rush of nervousness about what he was about to say. “I’m glad you're here.”

And it was true. More true than he could even express with words.

“Because you've already helped me so much, and I trust you. I… It feels like we can get through this, because we're… Because you're here.”

The memory of Bruce hauling him up by the hand came back, the strange, dark costume with a bat on the chest scaring Clark at the time. But now…

“Back in that warehouse, you were really cool. And- And brave, and I- Despite everything, I'm happy I got to meet you.”

He looked Bruce in the eyes, determination and hope shining in his own as he scooted closer, dangling his legs off the couch again. Pa always said that Clark had too much energy for his own good. With a hopeful smile, Clark reached out a hand.

“So… friends?”

Bruce blinked. The boy looked truly stunned, for the first time, pretty blue grey eyes wide.

“I've-” Bruce looked away, shyly. Slowly, his cheeks started to gain color. “I'm not… I'm not the one who-”

He swallowed.

Clark watched, mesmerized, as Bruce awkwardly tugged at the corners of his book.

“If… If you want.” Bruce eventually mumbled, placing his own hand in Clark's.

And Clark couldn't stop a big happy smile from splitting his face.

Bruce was… Bruce was his first real friend.

Back at home Clark had always had trouble making friends with the other kids. He felt kind of like a puzzle that didn't fit quite right no matter how many times one tried to fit it in, maybe taken from a separate box entirely. He was always a little too twitchy, a little too sensitive, a little too strong, a little too energetic. His parents taught him to hide these things from a very young age, and even though Clark really really loved his Ma and Pa, and he knew they were just trying to protect him, he still felt like there was something wrong with him, at times.

And for some reason… For some reason it didn't feel at all like that with Bruce. Being around the other boy came naturally.

He looked at Bruce with a big smile.

Maybe it was because they were both misplaced puzzles.

The boys sat there, for a while, hands intertwined on the couch, up until Bruce had awkwardly proposed they read the book together. And that's how, later, when it was time for bed, Alfred had found them, a book splayed on both of their laps as Bruce quietly explained dinosaur facts to an amazed but sleepy looking Clark.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Jason really didn't want to be here. In fact, he would actually prefer being dead to this bullshit. And he would know. He died once.

But, unfortunately, Dickface still held that embarrassing video of Red Hood saying that he actually kinda maybe didn't mind his family(he absolutely did not say that he missed them) while high as fuck on painkillers from their last joint mission over his head, and Jason would actually rather kiss Clayface on the mouth than let anyone see that. 

He was never going on solo missions with Nightwing ever again.

He was also going to sprinkle dog food in all of his cereal.

Whatever.

Point was, he was here, stuck on babysitting duty with said Dickface, because apparently Dick couldn't look after two kids by himself. The rest of the family, minus Alfred, after skipping a few days of school and or work to try and deal with their ‘child problem’ finally needed to go back to it, especially since they got wind of Zatanna’s return being delayed by a few more days.

Jason took a glance in the mirror at the backseat of the car. Bruce was scowling at the window, unhappy with the grey cap they had forced on him to at least somewhat hide the face that was still far too recognizable in Gotham, even decades later. By his side Clark looked much happier with the little purple hair clip that Steph had graciously lent him to hide the little ‘s’ curl, even if his expression remained cautious. It probably wouldn't be a dead giveaway, what with how uncut and curly the boy's hair were, compared to his older version, but one could never be too careful (They were all taught by mister paranoia himself, after all).

Dick was the only one having fun with this so far, humming along to some tune on the radio as he parked Bruce's Lamborghini Urus in the driveway of their local shopping mall. He'd been the one to initiate this whole trip, saying that they needed to buy the kids actual well fitting clothes if they were going to be staying with them for a few more days, Timmy’s old stuff and whatever else Alfred had produced out of who knows where notwithstanding. And Jason was pretty sure Damian might actually try to stab someone if he'd been asked to share his own clothes, what with how badly the kid was taking this whole situation.

Regardless, they were all here now, walking through the mall at a steady pace, little Clark practically bouncing with excitement as soon as they stepped foot inside. A few of the passersby stared at them, concerned about Clark's bruises and Bruce's bandaged hands and head, but this was still Gotham, so no one stopped them. Clark was looking around at anything and everything they passed, too shy or too polite to ask Jason and Dick about it but occasionally pointing stuff out to little Bruce with a quiet tug on his shirt. Dick was very obviously trying not to coo at everything they did while Jason just felt weird about this whole thing.

Honestly, the kids were practically glued to each other's side. It was… Interesting. Understandable, though, what with how Jason and Duke had initially found them. Still, they seemed like a mismatched pair, much like their adult selves. Clark was a curious, happy little kid, who seemed to be genuinely interested in everything and anything around them, while Bruce was distant and uninterested, operating like a little emotionless robot. Who knew that this started this young. Honestly, Jason found it a little unnerving, and judging by the way Bruce was keeping a close eye on him and Dick both, the feeling seemed to be mutual.

It was also noticeable, the way Bruce tried to subtly keep away from Jason, despite Jayson missing his guns.

Which was just great.

Even as a kid Bruce had liked him the least.

Not that it fucking mattered.

Dick had almost immediately dragged them all to the kid's clothing section, proudly presenting the kids with the ugliest, brightest T-shirt with the store's logo on it with a showy “Ta-da!”

Bruce blanched. Clark looked clueless.

Jason was snorting.

“We're trying it.” He announced, glancing at little Bruce who was still looking at the hideous thing with a blank, somewhat disturbed expression. Jason grinned.

Okay, maybe this little trip wasn't going to be so bad, after all. 

And that was how they'd ended up picking a bunch of stuff for the kids to try, Dick taking the more genuine options that ranged from pretty cool to the infamous ‘Disco Nightwing’ suit level of corny and Jason grabbing the stuff that would hopefully embarrass the hell out of Bruce when he was back to his old self. The kids both seemed a little too overwhelmed to pick for themselves, anyway, even if Dick did offer, Clark probably feeling bad about spending money and Bruce looking kind of lost without Alfred in the aisle of white collar kid shirts.

Dick couldn't actually suppress a delighted sound as both Bruce and Clark had come out of the changing room, Clark wearing a shirt with the bat symbol and Bruce looking down at his own matching Superman one, a nigh perfect mirror of how they'd found them. Jason had to give it to Dick; it was a great idea having them switch as he snapped a photo. He snapped a few more with little Bruce in what was essentially a robin pyjamas, a red hood shirt(okay, it wasn't specifically for red hood, but the bat on it was red, so it counted), and in a few awful shirts with the sparkles. He'd taken a decent amount of pics with Clark as well, the boy looking particularly funny and uncomfortable in formal wear, although he happily wore the Wonder Woman pants and the numerous shirts with aliens that were entirely too on the nose and left Jason and Dick giggling.

In the end, however, both of the kids had picked the least offensive options out of all the silly and referential clothing items they gathered, Bruce sticking with mostly black and white formal looking stuff Dick had sifted through upon his request and Clark picking the more colourful and plain looking options, a few plaid shirts sneaking their way in somehow. Clark did, however, take the bat symbol shirt, looking a little red in the face as he'd held it out to Jason, and Bruce, noticing that, hesitantly reached out with his own Superman one, as well.

Okay. Fuck. They were kind of cute. Jason hated it here.

It was when they were leaving that Clark's eyes caught on something on the display of a kid's shop. The boy stopped in his tracks, Jason, walking further back with half of the bags noticing immediately, eyes tracing to the little blue dinosaur plush placed on a fake rock. It was actually nicely made, its back curved and its neck long, with beady eyes, and an interesting, shapely head. The boy visibly lit up, Bruce and Dick finally noticing the delay as well.

“That's a Brachiosaurus!” Clark exclaimed, pointing at it and looking towards Bruce. His eyes were drawn to the toy too, briefly, something wistful in them as Clark shot him another little glance, Bruce nodding in his assessment.

“Do you want to get it?” Dick immediately asked, excited, and Clark turned to him, all wide eyed innocence.

“Um…Can we…?” 

He looked at Dick, and then Jason, as if to confirm that they really could. Jason snorted.

“I mean it's Bruce's mone- Hey!” Dick elbowed Jason in the ribs at that, hard, Jason sending him a murderous glare. Dick simply beamed at Clark, ignoring him. “Of course we can!”

“Do you want anything, Bi- Bruce?..” Dick asked, a little awkwardly and looking towards the other boy. Jason tried to elbow him back but his annoying brother dodged.

Bruce remained silent, only blinking at the interaction before averting his eyes, which, Jason supposed, was answer enough.

“Okay.” Dick said softly. Jason could see Clark's eyes on the other boy too as Dick straightened. The boy was looking between the plush and Bruce,finally settling on something determined. It was a perfect distraction for Dick to suddenly thrust his half of the bags at Jason.

“I'm not your personal hanger.” He grumbled, accepting the bags regardless.

His annoying brother grinned.

“Watch Bruce for a bit, will you?” He was already steering Clark towards the doors of the toy store. “We’ll be right back!”

And with that he had immediately disappeared into the store, both Clark and the dinosaur plush from the shop window gone with him, Dick's light chatter still audible as they walked away despite the store blasting kid songs at what had to be full volume.

Jason grumbled again, gripping the bags more securely and slinging them over his shoulder before looking at Bruce.

The boy was standing there, stock still and face entirely blank. He wasn't looking at Jason or anything in particular for that matter.

Ugh.

What a weird kid.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The ride home was more quiet. Everyone was tired, Clark nervously cradling a dinosaur toy in his lap, every so often glancing at Bruce who was sitting there silently, watching the window.

Suddenly, there was a dinosaur waved in front of him, both Jason and Dick’s eyes catching the movement in the rear view mirror.

Clark waved the dinosaur's front paw, smiling. Then, the toy was placed firmly right in Bruce's lap.

Bruce blinked at Clark, an unspoken question hanging in the air.

“He's, um… He's actually for you.” Clark explained hurriedly, a brief glance towards Dick showing that the young man was very much in on it.

The grin on Dick's face had been bright. When Clark suddenly confessed to him that he actually wanted to buy the cute dinosaur for Bruce, how could he not go along with it? Little Superman had just been much too precious, even insisting that he didn't want anything himself, practically buzzing with happiness as he got his hands on his gift dinosaur.

Dick made a mental note to return to the store and buy him a matching one later.

“I just thought… I know you like dinosaurs and I thought you'd like him.” The boy continued innocently, and Dick could scream. Then, the obvious question hit him. Wait, did B actually like dinosaurs? Somehow, it seemed like a thing of the past, but then again there was that giant mechanical T-Rex on the display-part of the batcave.

Huh.

The next words Bruce uttered were almost too low for the people in the front seats to catch.

“I'm… I'm too old for…”

Clark shook his head.

“But you liked it, didn't you? Ma says you're never too old for things that make you happy.”

He was smiling again, that big goofy smile that seemed to rarely leave his face.

“She even keeps her and Pa’s old toys in the attic. She's always so happy when she takes them out. And I have a lot of toys, too!”

Bruce seemed to contemplate it, hands coming to gently rest on the dinosaur as if afraid that it would fall if the car was suddenly jostled. For a moment, he truly looked like a kid. What with all the excitement and stress of their transformation, Dick didn't even notice just how un-kid like Bruce seemed, always keeping his walls up and distancing himself from his family.

He looked towards Jason, his younger brother's face scrunching up in concern, almost as if he'd thought the same thing. Catching his eyes, however, Jason quickly frowned, rolling his eyes and resting his elbow on the window, almost as if he wasn't watching the kids with rapt attention.

“Thank you.”

Bruce's voice was soft and quiet, Dick's heart aching as he decided to leave the kids be, eyes returning back to the road. He could practically imagine Clark's beaming smile, though, as he filed away the interaction for later good-natured ribbing of Bruce, when they'd have his older self back.

When Alfred met them at the door, the butler seemed very surprised to see Bruce holding onto a toy, the boy quickly darting away after saying he wasn't hungry, Clark staying for a bit longer just to ask politely if Alfred, or Dick or Jason needed any help.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Clark trailed after Bruce through the long hallway, still as amazed at the Manor’s grand interior as he was when he'd first seen it. It’s been four days since then, the two boys mostly left to themselves during the day, only Dick and Mister Pennyworth remaining in the Manor, the former being around them more often. 

Dick was really nice and really friendly. He would offer to watch cartoons with them (there were so many, and the TV screen was so big! It was nothing like the small, noisy and square TV Clark had back at home), or read (Bruce really loved reading), or even play, like that one time that Dick gifted Clark with his very own dinosaur plushy (an allosaurus! As Bruce told him).  Bruce seemed to be embarrassed by Dick's idea, however, so Dick had quickly relented, suggesting that they do something else instead. Over the course of many breakfasts and dinners they have spent together both of the boys had gotten to learn a little about each and every resident of the Manor.

Mister Pennyworth was Bruce's butler and the only one Bruce knew before all this happened. He was very polite, and Clark just couldn't get used to him calling him ‘Master’. He seemed stern, waking them up and calling them to bed each day, making sure that they both brushed their teeth, looked after their things and ate on time. But, in actuality, Mister Pennyworth was just very dutiful and gentlemanly, or, at least, what Clark would imagine a true gentleman to be like. Mister Pennyworth also did most of the housework and made really great food which was almost as tasty as Ma’s cooking. Clark tried not to think about that last part too much, though, as he would probably start missing his parents even more. Duke was also nice. He was probably the one who talked to Clark and Bruce most, outside of Dick and Mister Pennyworth, but he was a lot more casual about it, and he seemed to be trying to befriend them too, even if he often acted a little awkward. Cass rarely talked at all, but she smiled at both Bruce and Clark warmly, whenever she saw them looking, and she seemed to somehow always know what both of them were feeling. Bruce trusted her the most, even if it was still very little, but that was maybe because they were kind of similar in some ways. Cass was also a lot around Stephanie, who came to the Manor at random but didn't actually live there. Stephanie didn't shy away from talking to them, but she also didn't seem to be really interested in it. In a way, Clark got the impression that she pretended as if he and Bruce weren't there at times. Still, she seemed confident and fun. Really, everyone in the Manor was nice, even if they had their quirks. Tim didn't really talk to them a lot because he was incredibly busy. The boy was always walking around with a mug of coffee and a small hand held computer, and Clark wasn't sure it was healthy, drinking so much caffeine, but the few times they bumped into each other in the corridors Tim would wave at them before promptly disappearing somewhere. Everyone in the Manor, including Mister Pennyworth, had the tendency to do that. Clark thought that they were maybe going down to that underground cave place that they saw briefly, but he didn't want to try and trail after them, for fear of overstepping. There were also Jason and Damian. Jason didn't live at the Manor, even though Clark heard Dick mention him having a room here, after they finished shopping. Clark hadn't seen him since. The only impression that Clark got was that Jason was a little mean at times. But also Jason helped them with shopping, and he seemed to have fun, even, and Dick had vouched for him. Either way Jason definitely liked Clark and Bruce more than Damian. Damian was… Well, each time Clark saw him, he seemed kind of angry. The boy ignored them, for the most part, just like Steph did, and he would loudly complain when he didn't like something, being a little rude at times and always calling people by their last names. Clark… was a little scared of him, if he was being honest. But he also didn't want to think ill of someone he didn't know too well. Barbara and Kon were the last people Clark and Bruce met, even if it was only briefly. Barbara seemed cool, and Kon was probably nice, even if Clark didn't remember much of him from that time in the sewers. 

All these residents of the Manor had gotten along great, from what Clark gathered, and the arguments that often broke out at dinner seemed very domestic, like they were just a big, mismatched family. Clark would often find himself smiling or giggling at their antics, whether it was throwing food (and getting a very stern look from Mister Pennyworth for it, that usually made people cower) or joking around.

But today all of the residents of the Manor seemed to have disappeared. After breakfast, everyone had gone about their day, the Manor standing emptier than usual. Even Dick seemed to have disappeared completely, when the evening fell, Clark and Bruce left to wander the empty halls and rooms.

They were just out looking for a notebook Clark had misplaced earlier somewhere, since no one was around to ask about it. The boy was pretty sure he'd left it in one of the common rooms, but he wasn't exactly sure which one, and so far all of the places they'd checked had come out empty. It was given to him by Dick when the young man had noticed that Clark kept on fiddling with his hands as if itching to do something, and the small notebook was already filled to the brim with doodles and silly little notes. But, at the moment, Clark's mind was entirely elsewhere.

“Do you think they're disappearing into that cave?”

Bruce stilled where he'd been closing the door to a room they had previously been in, but that also turned out empty.

The mysterious cave and the secret entrance was something Clark had thought about a lot. It, and the weird, masked costumes that Dick and the others wore on the day they'd met, ones that reminded him so much of the Grey Ghost.

Bruce hesitated. His expression seemed thoughtful, for a moment, before he'd asked:

“Do you want to check?”

Clark opened his mouth in surprise.

“Um… I… I mean… Maybe..?” 

Clark had tried asking about the cave at dinner once. But the resounding silence, and then Dick's quick dismissal of it screamed that they weren't supposed to know about it, or, at least, shouldn't ask.

“Are we allowed to?..” Clark questioned.

Well it was… It was technically Bruce's Manor, wasn't it?

The determined glint in Bruce's eyes seemed to be saying so.

And that's how, after very little pushback from Clark, the boys found themselves in the living room they'd walked out of, on that day, inspecting the seemingly innocuous grandfather clock that stood where the tunnel should have been. Well, Bruce was mostly the one who inspected it, Clark being instructed to keep a lookout.

The clock had stopped a while ago. Even when Bruce dragged over a chair to fiddle with its mechanisms they couldn't seem to crack it. No amount of fiddling with the hands of the clock worked, and there weren't any hidden switches. Eventually, both of the boys gave up, Bruce plopping into said chair with a disappointed huff.

“Do you think it only opens when you make it a certain time?” Clark asked, trying to look behind the clock again.

He wasn't very successful. Honestly, it looked like there never even had been a tunnel in the first place, but they definitely entered the Manor from here.

Bruce nodded.

For a moment, he lifted his head again, twisting in the chair to look at the clock, his expression pensive. Then, he lifted his hand, something crossing over his eyes, something that made Clark worry, but as soon as he noticed it, the expression was gone, Bruce sliding off of the chair and walking towards the center of the room, apparently giving up completely.

Clark looked after him in alarm, but decided to first return the chair to its rightful place in the room. He was a little afraid they'd get caught, but also it was just the right thing to do. Mister Pennyworth was pretty much the only one who cleaned up this Manor regularly, and Clark didn't want the elderly man to have more work.

When he'd finally accomplished it, Bruce was once again turning back to him. His eyes, however, were trained on the wall behind the grandfather clock, calculating.

“There's something else we could try.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Bruce looked around for anyone watching them, Clark clumsily trying to help him with that. It seemed that they were in fact, alone in the corridor at the moment, so Bruce knelt down by one of the intricate wooden panels of the wall, gliding his small hands along its edges.

A soft click sounded, the panel slipping back, revealing the sliver of darkness that hid behind it.

A secret tunnel!

Clark sucked in a sharp breath. 

A jolt of excitement ran through him as he watched Bruce slide open the big panel with some difficulty, a slim, slightly shorter than the both of them entrance to a secret tunnel slowly getting revealed, a small drop they'd have to make to get in.

The Manor held so many secrets!

The boys exchanged a small glance, Bruce not being able to help it and smiling a little at Clark's obvious excitement.

The boy dangled his legs over the edge before dropping into the darkness, his head almost levelled with the entrance to the tunnel now, and Clark handed him the flashlight they'd scavenged for previously. Once again he looked around, confirming that no one had seen them, before dangling his own legs over the edge and dropping down, clumsily catching himself on the walls. He smiled at Bruce again, feeling like they were both spies in a movie.

With some effort, the boys had been able to slide the panel back in its place, plunging themselves into the near darkness.

It… It was actually a little scarier than it seemed at first.

There was nothing but a stretch of darkness in front and behind them, the tunnel big enough for two kids but a little too short for a proper adult, probably made for secrecy, more than comfort.

“Can…” Clark whispered, a little unsure all of a sudden, and his face heating. “Can we… Can we hold hands?”

Bruce's eyes turned towards him, pale in the yellow light.

Clark looked away, sheepish.

“I- I mean it's okay if… If you don't want to.”

Bruce looked away from him too, fiddling with the flashlight.

“We can.” He whispered.

Clark immediately lit up.

Tentatively, Bruce extended his hand, Clark immediately grasping onto it, the boys just standing there, for a moment, holding hands before Bruce let out a little sound, awkwardly pointing with his flashlight.

“This way.”

They probably weren't supposed to be here. Clark wasn't a bad boy who'd often break the rules, but Bruce seemed very confident, even if the boys only talked in whispers. It was both exciting and nerve-wracking. Clark couldn't help looking at anything and everything they passed, every little dent or discoloration in the walls, the pipes they'd had to step over and the narrow ceiling. He just couldn't help whispering:

“What are these tunnels for?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

Bruce whispered back, slowing in his pace a little. “I discovered them by accident last year. I think… they were used as some sort of escape route.”

Bruce slowed to a stop where the tunnel had split.

For a moment, he seemed to think something over before picking the right path. It took them a few more twists and turns to finally reach what they were searching for, the boys stopping in front of the wall, Bruce frowning and letting go of Clark's hand, letting him hold the flashlight.

The boy ran his hands over the wall, frowning even more, Clark looking confused.

Then, Bruce stepped back, Clark having to step back with him, blushing a little when the other boy's head almost bumped into his face.

Bruce stopped, still looking at the wall.

Trying to be helpful, Clark held the flashlight higher, yellow glow catching on the plain grey wall, smooth and nearly unblemished.

Bruce was still.

“It’s… new.”

Clark blinked, the other boy turning towards him.

Bruce placed his hands on the wall, mentally mapping out the Manor.

“That's where the living room is.” He said, quiet voice feeling loud in the near silent place.

Then, Clark's eyes widened with the realisation.

“Someone sealed it off?”

Bruce nodded. He clearly knew these tunnels pretty well, and this seemed to put him off balance even more.

“I… was hoping to keep this a secret from Alfred.” The boy confessed, looking at Clark.

“What do we do now?” 

Bruce shook his head.

“I don't know. We probably won't get into the cave through here.” He looked back to the wall again. “But there must be other entrances to it.”

“Hmm…” Clark hummed thoughtfully, before smiling. “Wanna explore?”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Bruce and Clark ended up checking the entirety of the tunnels, the whole thing ending up way shorter than Bruce remembered, but still taking them quite a bit of time to explore fully, the boys smiling and talking in whispers as they rounded each corner.

Bruce was…

He was having fun.

He was having fun with Clark.

He'd… he'd almost forgotten how this had felt, before Clark suddenly came into his life. But, every new day, little by little… Whether it be talking about the Grey Ghost, or dinosaurs, or Clark's hometown…

Well…

It was nice.

And maybe… Maybe it wasn't so bad that that thing happened, that brought them here. That Bruce just woke up in that warehouse, because…

Because he had Clark now.

The other boy ran ahead, the both of them getting a little careless by the end, Clark's hushed but still way too loud laughter ringing in the narrow walkway.

There were a few more blocked off tunnels, and they'd also found a few exits Bruce already knew about, including the one they had first entered through, both of the boys now looking dusty and probably having some old spider webs in their hair. They explored each and every crevice, tirelessly going from one place to the other, knocking on the newer walls and talking about everything and nothing.

But the last exit, the one they finally left through, led them to a whole other wing of the Manor. Bruce hadn't actually explored it, beforehand, so he was very excited finding a ladder leading up and to a secret switch, the bookshelf moving out of the way with a screechy drag, a familiar room ending up right before his eyes, one he was so often told not to go to, as a kid.

Thomas Wayne's study.

Bruce was already in the middle of the room by the time Clark climbed out and turned off the flashlight, the bookcase sliding into place behind them, Clark letting out an excited ‘wow’ as it did so.

But even Clark's excitement felt distant now.

It hit Bruce all at once.

The feeling of wrongness, of anger sparked in his chest, and suddenly, it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

The study that belonged to his dad and was never meant to be touched.

It was different. 

It was different from what he remembered , someone's things scattered carelessly around the room along with his father's belongings, and how- How could they- This was… This was all Bruce had.

“Bruce…?”

Clark's voice felt distant.

Bruce was breathing heavily, scanning the room, eyes wild and head suddenly spinning. 

It… He…

The globe was missing.

As did-

As did the chair in the corner.

And the books- The books were in the wrong places.

Bruce… He used to come here a lot after…

After-

He could feel Clark stepping closer, but it didn't feel real.

Then, there was a hand grasping his, Bruce's breath rushing out of him all at once, a warm point of contact pushing back the oncoming feelings.

Warm.

Clark….

Clark was always so warm, and…

“Bruce?” Clark questioned again, a little frantically, and Bruce shook his head hard, snapping out of it and looking at the floor, embarrassed and sad all at once, clutching his jaw tightly.

The anger drained out of him as quickly as it sparked, leaving him just… Tired. Sad.

Bruce was… Used to it by now.

He blinked away the remaining wetness in his eyes.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

Clark looked so worried.

Feeling a wave of shame at that, he twisted his hand, stepping away from the other boy.

“Sorry. It's just… It's just different.” Bruce explained, the words ringing hollow.

It… It was fine.

Even if… Even if his father's study suddenly changed, someone clearly using it now, the desk that used to be his fathers piled on with papers, some personal items like a picture frame from what Bruce could kind of see behind the stacks on it as well. Briefly, Bruce wondered just whose faces he would see on it.

It wasn't….

It wasn't just his Manor anymore.

Bruce pushed down the wrongness of that too, even if his brows furrowed as he scanned the room again, deciding to busy himself with exploring. He tried not to feel guilty at the sheepish way Clark looked after him.

“I, uh… I don't think we've been here before.”

Clark tried, looking around now too.

Bruce let out a little disinterested sound of confirmation.

He was tired. He was tired, and Clark started looking around as well, mostly in an attempt to break this new, uncomfortable atmosphere that had settled between them.

“Maybe we could… Maybe we could learn why it's different?” Clark sounded hopeful. “Like, we can find out who messed with the things here if you… If you want.”

They both knew it was probably those people. Still, Bruce finally looked back at Clark, the boy's face lighting up in a tentative smile.

Slowly, Bruce nodded.

The relief on Clark's face was just far too obvious.

“Okay, then- Then I'm going to look over there, and see if I can find any clues and-”

“What are you doing here.”

Both of the boys jumped.

At the entrance to the study, Damian stood, scowling. The boy was holding a notebook - Clark's notebook - in his hands, but his expression was stormy, and he quickly crossed the room to where the boys were, threateningly coming to a stop before Clark.

*Oh- um, we-” Clark stammered, flustering.

Bruce was a little intimidated by Damian, if he was being honest, but he scowled back, stepping closer to Clark too in an effort to protect him.

Briefly, something flickered in Damian's eyes. But, whatever it was, the other boy didn't allow it to make him falter.

He shoved the notebook at Clark, the boy stammering a flustered little ‘thank you’.

“Tt. You aren't supposed to be here.” Damian grumbled. Briefly, his eyes met Bruce's and his scowl deepened. “Get out.”

“Um.” Clark said at the same time as Bruce defiantly questioned: “Why?”

Damian narrowed his eyes, but he didn't respond.

For one tense moment, they just looked at each other in silence, before Damian let out another “tt” and looked away.

“Th-thank you again for returning my notebook.” Clark blurted, suddenly. .”I, uh… Dick mentioned that you also liked drawing, and I… Anyway, I appreciate you returning it.”

Damian twitched.

“You should be more careful about your drawing supplies.” He advised, before turning on his heel to face the opposite wall. “Now get out.”

Something about his demeanor towards Clark seemed to soften, a little, just then, and Clark's smile eased at that, Bruce still scowling at the older boy but losing a little of his own tension, too.

Clark looked towards Bruce.

“We should probably get going.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Kon had to admit that being Superman was actually… A lot more exhausting than he thought.

For the past week he'd been running himself pretty rugged, the world always having yet another disaster to help with, another villain to stop, and, unlike Clark, he didn't even help with a lot of the trivial things, like saving cats from trees or something. His main focus was on the brief appearances that were usually far too fast for the common cameras to properly catch. It was a cover they came up with, a while ago, an illusion of Superman being there. He knew Dick was also dawning the cowl in his dad's stead.

Still, the rumors of Batman and Superman being gone had persisted.

Whoever had turned Clark and Bruce into their little versions clearly knew of what happened and wasn't about to just let it go. From what the bats have gathered, there was already a bounty on the two kids’ heads, the monsters of Gotham's criminal underworld searching for any and all matching children.

It seemed like bad news.

Even if he and Clark had occasionally butted heads, and if their relationship was kind of weird in the past, well… Kon liked Clark. Honestly, it was very hard not to, since the man was literally Superman and all. And now Clark was small and vulnerable , and looking so much like Jon , so of course Kon had readily stepped up, filling in where he could.

But, well, visiting him…

Kon didn't think he'd actually take Dick up on the offer.

Still, he was here now, handing an old, green tractor toy to an excited Clark, the boy's eyes shining as he thanked him.

“Ma and Pa said hi.” Kon relayed, the smile on the boy infectious. “They miss you.”

Clark's eyes grew a little watery, at that, so Kon reflexively ruffled his hair, the boy letting out a surprised laugh.

Kon rarely ever visited the Manor. Actually, he'd probably been here like twice, usually meeting his bat friends elsewhere, like Mount Justice or Gotham rooftops. Heck, he'd probably seen Tim and Cass at the farm more than in their actual home. It wasn't that he didn't want to come here, okay, well, kind of, but not really. The Batman was just a little intimidating, and, like many of the younger heroes, Kon often felt uneasy about being near him, even if he knew of his actual identity.

Still, seeing him now, as just a scrawny, little kid…

Well, it shattered the illusion somewhat.

They were gathered in the living room, only a few members of the batfamily present. Alfred had just disappeared to bring everyone tea, Cass and Tim were both standing next to Clark and Kon, Dick smiling at them from the couch. Bruce was standing a few ways away from them all, closer to Clark, really, and, well, even if Kon knew that they were best friends in the future, that still felt like something.

“Actually, how old are you both?” He asked suddenly, the room falling silent. He could see Tim's face go thoughtful, for a moment, and he immediately knew what was up.

“Wait, wait, are you- Are you seriously telling me that none of you asked?” 

Cass looked away, and Dick chuckled.

“Kind of slipped my mind.” He defended.

Clark's earnest little eyes turned back towards him.

“I'm eight. Almost nine.”

He seemed to be pretty proud of that fact, but Bruce's eyes widened.

“I'm… nine.” He said.

“Wait, you're older than me?” Clark turned back to him, and Bruce nodded. He seemed so earnestly surprised, and Kon ruffled his hair again, not able to help himself and getting the enjoyment from the weak little protesting ‘hey’ he received.

So Clark was exactly Jon's age. It was both pretty cute and kind of troubling, since both of the World's Finest lost exactly 30 years of their life.

Cass was the next one to ruffle Clark's hair with a soft smile.

“Small.” She said, and Clark protested, though he didn't seem too offended, hands too busy with holding his tractor.

Tim's tablet beeped.

Immediately, the teen reached for it, reading through something, and it wasn't long before he threw a meaningful look towards Dick before turning to the rest of them.

“It's fortunate that you're here, Kon. I just received news from Zatanna.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

It took a few hours of waiting, but the boys now  sat on the chairs Dick had brought them, awkwardly placed in the middle of the room, Zatanna introducing herself to the kids as she crouched before them.

Every single member of the ‘rescue team’ had gathered here now, sans Barbara, who still definitely kept an eye on the situation, judging by Tim's insistent typing. Jokingly, Kon had elbowed him only to receive an annoyed swat in turn. Even Jason had eventually showed up, and the kids seemed a little uncomfortable with the attention.

“I'm going to perform a few magic tricks, now, okay?” Zatanna was saying. “You're going to see lots of brightly colored symbols in the air, but don't worry; nothing will hurt you.” 

Bruce's expression seemed doubtful. Clark, on the other hand, nodded.

“Are you a real magician?” He asked, almost reverently, and Zatanna nodded, grinning.

“That I am. Now, can the two of you close your eyes for a moment? And don't open them until I tell you to, alright?”

Finally, she received dual nods of confirmation.

Both of the boys closed their eyes, Zatanna standing up and stretching her hands towards them, closing her eyes for a moment as swirling magic gathered on the tips of her fingers. Then, seemingly, it exploded, a harmless wave of magic passing over the two boys and glowing symbols materialising in the air.

“You can open your eyes.” Zatanna said, concentrating on something, everyone watching with rapt attention from where they were instructed to keep their distance.

Clark gasped as soon as he saw what surrounded them, immediately looking towards Bruce and pointing at the air, the other boy's mouth falling open in silent amazement.

Magic might have been wild and unpredictable, but Kon had to admit, it truly was a mesmerizing sight. Zatanna's eyes seemed to glow, almost, along with her hands, and this was good! Because it meant that it truly was magic that had done this, more and more symbols filling the air, the volume of them growing. Kon exchanged happy glances with Cass and Duke, but, just as that happened, a gasp came from Zatanna.

Immediately, everyone was left on alert, the symbols twisting in the air, the volume of them growing, and growing, and growing -

And this was bad, Clark letting out a scared little gasp and Kon was going to just say damn it all and fly there, but-

Zatanna waved her hands away, harshly, the magic rushing towards her before disappearing, the magician staggering back almost as if she'd received a blow.

Still, she quickly recovered, smiling at the frightened boys in the chairs, Bruce immediately jumping off of his own and stepping closer to Clark, his worried gaze looking from his friend to Zatanna.

“Sorry, sorry.” She said, “My magic must not be working correctly today. I hope that didn't scare you.*

The kids didn't seem entirely convinced, but Dick was already stepping forward.

“Z, are you..?”

Zatanna smiled at the kids one last time before turning to the worried batfamily and Kon.

“I'm alright.” She was smiling, but there was something else in her gaze, and she inclined her head towards the door. “But we should talk, I just remembered something. There must be a reason my tricks aren't working.*

“I'll stay with Master Bruce and Master Clark.” Alfred announced, and Zatanna nodded, immediately heading for the exit, everyone following suit.

“The fuck was that?” Jason hissed as soon as they made it to the corridor, Dick sending him a disapproving glance.

“It's… it's magic, right? Why weren't you able to turn them back?” Duke asked, his expression worried.

“What happened back there? Will they be alright?” Kon added.

Almost everyone was frowning, and if it wasn't that, then people couldn't keep the worry away from their faces.

Zatanna sighed, confirming:

“It's magic. To be precise, it's a very powerful curse. I don't know exactly how, but it seemed to have reverted them back to their child states. And it's… Very closely tied to their own subconscious.”

“But you'll be able to reverse it, right?” Steph asked. “You'll… You'll bring the good old B man and Supes back?..”

Zatanna closed her eyes, the feeling of dread burrowing itself into Kon's stomach.

The atmosphere, so hopeful just a few moments ago, turned grave.

“I'm… I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't simply reverse it.”

Chapter Text

The pavement, still wet from the pitter patter of rain glistened in the bleak lights of the city. Mom smiled at something dad said, his parents’ laughter ringing in the air. Bruce was smiling too. Even though the alley they walked into was kinda scary, the boy just carelessly skipped forth, missing when a figure slipped into the alley behind them.

“Give me your wallet. Now.”

The unfamiliar voice made Bruce turn, the boy freezing in fear as soon as he'd noticed the man standing there, a barrel of a gun pointed straight at his dad's chest.

Fear, cloying and cold had gripped Bruce's heart.

He could see his mom stilling, dad subtly stepping in front of her, shielding both Bruce and Martha behind him. The man's hands on the gun were shaky, and dad lifted his hands in a placating gesture. He was speaking to the mugger, trying to talk him down, Bruce's heart thundering with fear, his father's soft, reassuring voice still sounding far, almost as if they were underwater.

“Take it.” Dad was saying, the wallet in his outstretched hand. “Please, take it and go.”

Bruce couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe. He looked up at his mom, eyes wide and scared, terrified as mom stood there, her eyes reflecting that same fear, and her brows drawn as she looked at the mugger.

The wallet had fallen, startling the mugger, the gun aiming higher, almost straight at his dad's head.

“Easy… Easy.” Thomas was saying, as he slowly kneeled down to get it.

But the mugger wanted more. He demanded the necklace. The jewels. Everything they had. Dad stiffened.

And somehow.

Bruce knew what would happen next.

A slight twitch of a hand was all it took.

A deafening sound rippled through the night.

Mom let out a horrifying scream, Bruce's ears ringing from the sound, vision blurring as his dad staggered backwards.

The gunman panicked, rushing to her in a flurry of movement, grabbing and ripping off the pearl necklace on mom's neck before she could struggle, another shot ringing through the air, the man's footsteps fleeing as Bruce stood there, motionless and terrified as his parents bodies hit the ground one by one, dull, distant thuds permanently etching themselves into Bruce's memory. Through the ringing, he could hear the pearls scattering to the floor.

Slowly, something started to pool between his feet, mixing with the asphalt’s moisture.

It was dark.

And red.

Bruce didn't even notice when both his mom and dad's blood splattered over the wet pavement.

There were small droplets of it on the ground, on his own clothes, more and more red gushing and marring the ground by the minute.

“M-mom..?”

There was so much blood. Bruce’s knees gave out, the boy's hands trembling as they reached shakily for his parents.

“D-dad…?”

He was crying, useless fingers clutching onto their clothes.

“M-mom, please, open your eyes, m-ma…”

“Somebody - Somebody, please, help-” He hiccuped, grasping onto mom's hand.

It was cold.

Mom's hands were always a little cold, but never like this, Bruce's other hand reaching to grab at his father's jacket.

“Mom, d-dad-” They needed... “Someone, anyone- P-please-”

His voice was tapering off as he kept on mumbling, hiccuping, wet, scalding tears running down his cheeks.

No one answered.

Bruce wasn't sure if it was just in his head, but it felt like mom and dad were getting colder.

For what felt like hours he cried, begged for to open their eyes, until he couldn't, blood smearing all over his hands and face in his desperate attempts to fix it, to fix them like his dad did, but he couldn't stop the blood, and they weren't responding, why weren't they responding-

Unblinking, his parents stared up at the sky, heedless to his cries.

A siren wailed up in the distance.

Bruce let out a guttural scream.

He woke up with a start, choking tears streaming down his face as the boy fought uselessly to escape the tangled mess of his own bedsheets, hands still trying to grasp for his dead parents. The wisps of his nightmare clung to his every pore, the oppressive weight of the blanket suffocating and Bruce let out an agonised cry, clutching onto the empty air, whole body shaking as he called out for his dad, for his mom into the empty air.

It was still dark outside.

After a time, Bruce's voice gave out.

Exhausted, he could only sniffle, staring at the dark fabric of his bed with unseeing eyes.

Alfred didn't come.

The night was silent.

And it didn't even matter, because it wasn't the Alfred he knew. 

Everything hurt. His throat felt raw, head pounding and clenching in his chest. At times like these Bruce always felt weak and useless, just like he was back then. He couldn't save them. Couldn't do anything.

And now he was all alone.

With great effort Bruce managed to turn himself over, closing his eyes for a moment, numbness taking over his mind and body as he curled in on himself. It was a familiar feeling at this point. When the pain would get too much, Bruce would feel his mind and body just shut down, emptiness inside his chest growing with each passing second.

But when he opened his eyes again, he caught sight of a small, distinctive shape standing proudly on the nightstand.

Clark.

The reminder of the other boy sent another pang through his chest.

Clark the brachiosaurus stared back at him, with its beady little eyes, and seeing it made Bruce sniffle again. On shaky limbs Bruce had crawled over and reached for the plushy, cradling it carefully in his arms before slipping back under the covers and hugging it close to his chest, another wave of tears coming with renewed vigor. The little dinosaur was soft and comforting, even if Bruce knew he would feel silly in the morning, and even if it couldn't compare to the real Clark.

Still, Bruce hugged it even closer.

He… He wanted Clark to be here.

And he… could probably go to see him. Just to check. That Clark was there. That he was safe. That he was still in the next room over, and he wasn't hurt, that he wasn't-

Bruce had to blink away the image of his own bloodied hands, of the bloodied pavement overlapping with Clark's sleeping expression.

He felt nauseous.

It wasn't real.

Clark was fine. Bruce just…

When Clark slept next to him that one time, Bruce didn't get his usual nightmares.

If Bruce was being honest, he… He hoped that they would always sleep next to each other after that, something about the other boy's presence making him feel just a little more at ease. But ever since the first night Clark didn't come to his room again. They'd always said their goodnights before stepping into their own bedrooms, and then Bruce would proceed to close the door and pretend that he wasn't suddenly feeling anxious and that he didn't need to stare at his ceiling each night until exhaustion finally took him. He wasn't a kid anymore. He didn't need to… To be next to someone, when he slept.

Ever since that night the nightmares were always with him. And before meeting Clark, Bruce had managed just fine.

It was fine. He could power through it. He didn't want to disturb Clark, anyway. He was the older of the two, after all, and he had to look out for the younger boy.

Still, he…

Bruce clutched tighter onto his dinosaur, ignoring his dry throat and the stinging in his eyes, the world feeling cold despite the weighty blanket, his small body wracked with shivers and nausea.

This was enough.

It had to be.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

“Master Bruce.”

Bruce's head pounded.

His blanket shifted, the light hitting his closed eyelids making him groan and try to bury his face further into the pillow. Bruce clutched onto the soft little shape in his arms tighter, the astonished silence in the room never registering, until…

Alfred coughed, politely, Bruce blinking his eyes open a few times, before the world around him suddenly gained some clarity. Clark the dinosaur was looking at him, and Bruce froze, Alfred's unmistakable presence behind him making him stiffen.

“It will be time for breakfast very soon, Master Bruce.” Alfred said, gently, but Bruce was already pushing away both the covers and the plushie, mortified at being caught doing something so childish.

“I'm up, Alfred.” He said, jumping off the bed and already heading for the bathroom, wincing at his still pounding head, leaving the still, worried figure of his butler behind him to smooth out the sheets.

Alfred just sighed, looking at the messy bed and a forgotten plushie, before plucking it out of the mess of blankets. For a moment, he just allowed himself to look at the gift with a profound kind of sadness, the sounds of running water starting up in the bathroom.

The breakfast was a quiet affair.

This morning it was just Cassandra, Damian and Duke in the kitchen, despite the house being full just last evening, when the magician showed up. Duke gave them a weak little smile that Bruce could tell was entirely forced, both Cassandra and Damian staring at them, at him, as they entered. Uncomfortable under their stares, he hurried over to the table, Clark greeting everyone with an awkward but sincere smile and a ‘good morning’.

Bruce mumbled his own morning greeting into the already plated food before him. He wasn't really hungry. The idea of eating made his stomach churn, more images of his bloodied hands, of corpses flashing briefly before his eyes, so he'd merely poked at his pancakes before slowly sliding them over to Clark who always seemed happy to help.

Bruce only got some light scolding for it, his silence making Alfred purse his lips in displeasure quietly and turn back to cleaning the already spotless counters, the other occupants of the kitchen soon stopping to pay the kids any attention as well, none of the usual morning chatter filling the space.

Reading the atmosphere, Clark threw Bruce a worried glance and Bruce simply shook his head, not having any answers either.

Eventually, most everyone trickled out of the kitchen, Clark taking more time to finish his and Bruce's pancakes, the boy slathering them with way too much syrup and occasionally asking Bruce if he really didn't want any. The boys thanked Alfred for the meal before slipping away too, Clark taking Bruce's hand with a shy smile when the two of them finally ended up alone in the hallway.

Bruce smiled back at him tiredly, and Clark's face immediately lit up. At some point Clark started to intertwine their hands more often when no one was looking since he knew that Bruce didn't mind. Clark was very considerate not to do it in front of others, however, which Bruce appreciated. But each and every time they would link hands, something inside Bruce’s chest fluttered. Clark was always so warm, and Bruce didn't realize how much he craved it, craved the casual little touches, the tingling warmth that spread through his body at every one of Clark's dimpled smiles. The unease from the nightmare still lingered, Bruce's body and mind feeling a little sluggish, but Clark made things better.

They hugged twice before. Back in the sewers. It was brief, but… but Bruce really wanted to hug Clark again, and wasn't sure how to ask. And Clark probably didn't want to, anyway, and Bruce knew he was just being pathetic and childish, thinking of such things.

The Manor felt empty again.

It seemed that they would be left alone today, too.

After some aimless wandering the boys ended up in the garden, Bruce asking if Clark wanted to pick what they would be doing today, since the other boy was usually just following him around. It was a rare, sunny day in Gotham, and Clark seemed to almost glow with it, excitedly running around through the pathways, looking at the trimmed bushes and flowers. They didn't really have any equipment fit for the outside, Clark saying that he'd really like to try and teach Bruce how to play baseball some time, since Bruce never tried it before, so eventually the boys just ended up sitting on a bench next to a fountain, listening to the sounds of the nature and artificially running water. Clark picked the sunniest spot to sit on, happily leaning into the warmth, Bruce reluctantly plopping next to him and squinting unhappily at the way too bright sky.

He carefully avoided looking at what used to be his mother's rosebushes, growing a little too quiet while Clark was muttering excitedly about hide and seek, about the fields back at the farm again, and the small creek he used to frequent, and the flowers that grew in a meadow next to it that he'd like to show him.

“I really like coming there. It's one of my most special spots.” Clark confessed, his tone wistful. Their hands were intertwined on the bench, and it was warm, really warm, Bruce's eyelids growing a tad heavy. 

“I'm pretty good at making flower crowns. And I…” Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce absently noticed Clark's cheeks suddenly gaining color. “Well, if you'd like I could probably make you one. I… I think you'd look really pre- I mean, you know, I just… Um, I just think it'd suit you.”

Bruce didn't even notice how he'd started to doze off, Clark's presence finally making him relax.

“I-I also just think you're- you're very…”

Clark was still mumbling something, the sound of it distant but assuring, Bruce's eyes finally falling closed, head tipping onto the other boy's shoulder, breaths coming out in even little puffs as he'd finally fallen into  a dreamless sleep, Clark almost jumping out of his skin when it happened, heart pounding.

It was a long while when they had just sat there, Bruce sleeping soundly on Clark's shoulder and the other boy trying not to disturb him.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The atmosphere in the batcave was tense.

“There must be something we've missed.” Tim said, hands balling up into fists on the table. Five nights. Five nearly sleepless nights and they'd made absolutely no progress in the investigation. 

They managed to tie the activity to an offshoot of Intergang, but the individual members they'd managed to track down and interrogate still didn't have anything concrete for them. All the while someone was still poisoning the well by feeding the information about Superman and Batman being gone from the scene despite all of the batkids’ efforts to conceal it. And it would only get worse the more time had passed and the more people realized that it was true.

“I'm sorry, RR.” Came Barbara's voice into the comms. “I… I need to go now, my dad is already suspecting something. I think we should quit for the night.”

Panic jolted up Tim's spine.

“But- Wait, O, we still need to-”

“Robin and I are heading back soon as well.” Came Dick's modulated voice, interrupting him, Batman's distinct growl making Tim's chest tighten, despite it always sounding just a tick off coming from Dick. On a separate screen, the looped recording of the footage from Batman's cowl played over and over again, Tim's sleep deprived mind running over it as it did countless times already, the result all the same. ”It's another dead end. And I… I'll need to return to work tomorrow.”

For a brief moment, there was silence. They weren't giving up, they would never give up to bring Bruce and Clark back, but after two weeks of this they were exhausted, the information they received from Zatanna painting a pretty hopeless picture.

“They… They might have disposed of that artifact already.” Dick finished, switching the voice modulator off. “I think we should stop for tonight.”

Tim shut his eyes harshly, the sting from staring too long at the monitors just on the verge of unbearable.

“Okay.” He said, on an exhale. “Okay. Oracle, you're… Go rest. You two go back, too. I'll- I'll just stay here a little longer.”

Dick didn't say anything else, but the silence had grown heavy with disapproval. Oracle only gave a quick signing out before her comms disconnected.

Zatanna couldn't reverse the magic spell. Not without severely harming Bruce and Clark in the process, their souls intertwined with it in a dangerous, barely stable way, something clearly going wrong when the curse was initially placed. After they'd led the magician down to the cave on that fateful day that she'd taken a look at the kids, desperate for anything else they could uncover, after hours and hours of hypothesizing and then also going through the cowl's footage they'd managed to deduce a few more things. A few scattered shots of the stash of weapons included some potentially dangerous and cursed artifacts. Tim even managed to mostly reconstruct the fight Superman and Batman engaged in, but they still couldn't find the missing contraband. If only they could uncover where they had stashed the weapons, if they could track them down, and then figure out what exactly did it…

“I'm staying.” Cass' voice came, quiet but reassuring.

Steph had been the first one to bow out of this, saying that someone still needed to keep an eye on the city while the Bat was away. Tim knew this had hit Cass pretty hard, despite her not saying a thing. Duke was helping, as much as he could, staying up late despite his daily patrols, but he still needed some sleep to at least function in school and Jason had ditched contact almost as soon as they'd gotten the news, going off on his own, a trail of beaten up members of Intergang in his wake. And still nothing.

But they just had to push on. Tim knew this.

They always found a solution in the end.

“I'll meet with you soon, Black Bat. Stay on comms.” He said, already making a move for it, activating a communicator in his ear.

Dick sighed on the other end of it, Cass simply confirming she'll wait for him with a hum.

“Got room for one more?” Conner's voice chimed, suddenly, through the line they had given him.

“Kon!” Tim could feel some of the energy coming back to him, Cass’s ‘Superboy’ also sounding excited.

“Just… Stay safe, all of you, okay?..” Dick's voice sounded. “And comm if you need us.”

“What he means is don't do anything stupid.” Damian added, finally speaking up after being silent on comms for nearly the whole patrol.

Tim wasn't really listening when he absently hummed in acknowledgement, grabbing his own equipment.

They would solve this. They had to.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Clark cradled the little tray with warm cups in his hands, trying not to spill any of the hot chocolate he'd just made, bouncy little marshmallows floating on top of a dark, rich liquid. Mister Pennyworth was really kind about letting him use the kitchen, and knowing that the butler didn't allow it to just anyone made Clark almost bouncy as he walked, feeling quite proud of himself, even if Mister Pennyworth still had to supervise, lest Clark burn something. But as he got closer to rounding the corner he could hear muffled voices from up ahead. Clark didn't mean to pry, really, but he'd just heard Dick's voice, and he didn't know Dick had returned already, so he hurried his steps, only catching the tail end of what they were saying, the sound of Bruce's and his names catching his attention.

“-legally take in all of you, since Alfred can't. You know I'm the safest choice.”

“And what about Clark? You know Clark can't stay here. It's not that simple. And Bruce has far too recognizable of a face, and even if we pass him off as being biological, then-”

“If Jonathan and Martha can't, then I'm sure Kara will be able to. At least on paper. Or, maybe Lois-”

But the voices were cut off by a hurried “wait” , all of the sounds immediately stopping. As Clark walked around the corner, they were already looking his way, expressions becoming guarded upon noticing who it was and making Clark fidget.

Awkwardly, Clark smiled, even though he probably wasn't able to hide his worry.

“Uh, hi, Tim. Hi, Dick. I didn't know you returned already.”

Tim looked away briefly, with a “Hi.”. Dick forced a smile.

“Hi, Clark. Sorry, we… Didn't hear you there.” His eyes landed on the mugs in Clark's hands.

Clark shuffled a little, gripping the tray more firmly. He was glad to see Dick again, really. Almost a week had passed since the man had to return to his police officer job, and Clark didn't really expect him to show up so suddenly, even if he knew the commute wasn't too long, his eyes straying to the door to the living room, where the secret entrance to the cave sat. It looked like both of them just came out from there, Dick's smile tightening a little when he noticed Clark's gaze.

“I, um, I just made some hot chocolate.” Clark said, trying to salvage things. “It's my Ma’s recipe. You both can… There's still some left over in the kitchen. It should still be hot.”

Dick's expression almost immediately softened.

“Thank you. I'll make sure to try it.”

Tim’s hands tightened on his arms. But he'd also smiled, weakly, after exhaling.

“Thank you for the offer, Clark.”

He looked tired. Everyone in the Manor did, really. It's been almost a month since Clark and Bruce had been brought here, and with every day Clark could feel the atmosphere shifting. He didn't know what caused it, exactly, but the residents of the Manor seemed to no longer want to be around him or Bruce that much. They were always so busy. He knew they were going to that cave regularly, that they were trying really hard still to be nice, but… It was obvious something was wrong.

Alfred became more and more distant. The butler was the only one who was around Bruce and Clark often, now, even if the kids were mostly left to their own devices, but Clark could tell that Bruce was on edge when he was around. Dick had work, so he wasn't really around anymore, but his smiles seemed to dim, just a little, no longer as sincere as they were. Jason didn't come by again. Nor did Steph. Duke looked anxious, even if he was still being friendly, and Cass just seemed to grow very quiet and sad, but at least both of them were still regularly coming to see him and Bruce. Tim had made himself even more scarce than he was previously, and the few times Clark saw him around he just looked busy and stressed, occasionally arguing with Damian, who was the only one that didn't particularly change in his attitude, maybe became just a bit more irritable.

Clark was worried.

He really liked these people, they seemed mostly nice, and… And he couldn't help thinking that he'd somehow caused this.

The silence had grown awkward, the three of them standing in the hallway, unmoving.

Clark could practically see the moment Dick put on a fake cheer.

“Are you bringing the hot chocolate to Bruce?” 

Still, the mention of Bruce made Clark pipe up. The other boy had grown gloomier as well, even if he tried to hide it from Clark, and this, - making hot chocolate using his mom's recipe - was Clark's attempt at making him feel better. Clark may have also wanted to surprise and impress Bruce, even insisting on carrying the cups himself, a flush dusting his cheeks as he nodded in answer to Dick’s question.

“We wanted to continue watching the Grey Ghost today. You missed a lot of episodes, but if you want, I don't think Bruce will mind if you want to join…”

Clark looked up at Dick, but the man just shook his head.

“Sorry, maybe later. You go have fun, though.”

Clark smiled. Before he'd run off, Clark carefully tried to take the tray more into one hand, ending up balancing it awkwardly on his hand and forearm, coming up to Tim to pat him on the arm. He smiled, hoping this will make the teen feel better, before saying his goodbyes and rushing off, Tim and Dick staring after him in astonishment.

Clark was still worried about what he'd accidentally overheard, though, silently deciding to just go ask Bruce.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The boys were sitting in the tv room, drinking the hot chocolate Clark made and watching episodes of their favorite show together.

Clark didn't immediately share what he'd overheard with the other boy, but he still couldn't help worrying about it, so, eventually, when both of the mugs were empty and the credits started rolling on the last episode of the season, he brought it up.

Bruce was silent for a long while.

Clark was really happy that the other boy liked his Ma’s hot chocolate recipe, something fluttering in his stomach when Bruce thanked him. Even though he always felt at home when he was next to Bruce, sometimes he couldn't help feeling a little nervous around him too, hands clammy when Bruce allowed Clark to take his hand or sit really close, or read books aloud to him, or listened to Clark talk. 

But now… Bruce held no trace of that openness. The boy's eyes went distant, anxiety gripping Clark's heart at the sight.

“Bruce?..” He asked, searching the boy's pale blue eyes. He could see the way he tensed, hands clutching onto the couch tighter. “What… What do you think they meant?”

Clark wasn't sure he'd wanted to know the answer to that anymore. Not with the way Bruce was looking.

Bruce closed his eyes, throat bobbing with a swallow.

*They don't want us here.” He said, simply a statement.

It echoed off the walls hollowly, the reality of it piercing.

Clark stilled. He opened his mouth, but not even a single sound had escaped, his mind buzzing.

The fact that no one had checked up on them in hours suddenly felt weighted.

Clark couldn't help feeling lost, and even a little scared. The Manor, and each and every resident, or even a guest to it have become so familiar over the weeks. Even if the early morning chatter dwindled as of late, or if people weren't around as often they'd still… They still felt familiar, in a way, and Clark never even thought that he'd like living here as much as he did. Even if the biggest proponent of that was sitting right next to him at this very moment.

Breaking him out of his thoughts, Bruce suddenly whispered:

“You…” 

He paused, not looking at Clark. Then, cleared his throat, voice gaining a little power.

“So you… Will you come back to the farm?.. To- to your parents.” He clarified.

Clark let out a little uncertain sound, the question catching him off guard, somehow. Mindlessly, he swung his legs.

“I… I don't know. I mean I do want to go back to see Ma and Pa, of course, and I really miss them and-”

“You said that Dick mentioned them.” Bruce stated, cutting him off. The sudden harshness of his voice startled Clark. It was like a bucket of cold water was poured over his head, as he fumbled for words.

“I- I mean, yes. They- They also mentioned some other names, but-”

“But you're going back.” Bruce cut him off again.

Clark snapped his mouth shut. Bruce's expression was disconcerting, his tone cold in a way it had never been before. Not to Clark. It made him squirm in discomfort, eyes drifting away.

“I- um…”

The atmosphere was growing tenser.

“I… um, yes…?” Clark said, eventually, not sounding too firm.

Bruce said nothing. The boys just sat there, watching as the credits rolled and rolled, up until the screen dimmed, the blurry reflections of them on the couch looking back at them, the distance in-between the two somehow feeling greater than before.

Bruce dangled his legs off the couch, dropping onto the floor, Clark snapping back to attention as the boy started collecting their mugs.

“Bruce…” Clark tried, but the other boy was already placing the empty mugs on the tray, back to him.

“I’m sorry. I-  I'll just take these to the kitchen.” Bruce mumbled, Clark looking after his retreating figure in worry. He wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but Bruce was obviously fleeing, and if Clark didn't do anything now, then-

“Wait, I-”

But the door to the living room was already clicking shut, running steps audible in the silence.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The Manor hadn't been as crowded in a while. Granted, most of that was because of a new face that had shown up all of a sudden -  a blonde woman in colorful clothes who, at a first glance, looked to be a little older or around Dick's age. She came here with Conner. Dick had shown up again, too, Tim, Duke and Cass also making it out of their rooms just in time to greet the new arrivals, Damian trailing stormily right behind them. Everyone besides the new face still looked exhausted, and the conversations weren't as lively, just a few words exchanged and the lack of updates bringing the overall atmosphere down.

Bruce and Clark came into the foyer a little later than everyone else, ushered here from their usual spot at the library by Alfred, and the meagre discussions had all but fizzled out as soon as they entered.

Clark awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, looking to Bruce for reassurance. His awkwardness only grew when he didn't really get any. Bruce didn't even turn his head, and Clark just looked down, fiddling with his hands.

Ever so slightly, Bruce's lips pursed.

He hadn't really meant to distance himself from Clark.

He hadn't.

And yet ever since that day Clark told him about what he accidentally overheard Bruce couldn't stop thinking about it.

Inevitably, Clark would leave. It was bound to happen, really. Honestly, it should have crossed Bruce's mind much sooner. That's what always happened. And ever since that realisation the things between them had been... Strange. 

Bruce was less willing to talk or voice his opinions. Less willing to go out or explore the way Clark had clearly wanted, his answers becoming a little more stilted, leaving Clark floundering through most of their talks until eventually they teetered off to silence. The physical contact had also almost stopped, probably because of Bruce's hesitance to engage with Clark in other ways, and he never really initiated it either.

Bruce tried not to feel a little hurt about that. It was his own fault, after all. He couldn't blame Clark for something that was bound to happen, anyway, even if just looking at his smile had grown almost unbearable.

So Bruce looked carefully forward, trying to parse why the Manor was suddenly crowded.

Upon spotting them, the blonde woman who neither boy had yet the pleasure to meet made her way over, immediately crouching in front of Clark with a wide smile.

“Hi!” She said with a wave to the both of them, before focusing entirely on a nervous looking Clark. “Look at you; so cute! This is what I missed out on, huh?”

She seemed to be really taking Clark in, tilting her head this way and that and making the boy even more nervous with all of her sudden attention.

“Um…Hi?” Clark asked, just a little confused.

Bruce was just watching the exchange quietly, wary of this newcomer. Something about her radiated unpredictability, and he almost wanted to make Clark hide behind him, even if this new person seemed so outwardly friendly.

“I'm Kara.” Kara said before standing, hands on her hips. "You don't actually know me, but I am your cousin!”

“I have a cousin?” Clark's eyes widened, pure wonder in his tone. The boy almost visibly lit up, looking at her all over again, taking everything in. “Ma and Pa never told me about that!”

Kara beamed.

“Well you know now!” She laughed. “They told me to say hi to you, by the way. They miss you a lot. But you don't have to worry about them. Kon has been doing a great job of helping around the farm.”

At that her gaze landed on Conner, who just made his way over with the rest of the Manor's residents, crowding the boys further. Clark's eyes only widened.

“Kon is helping Ma and Pa?”

Conner rubbed at the side of his neck, smiling awkwardly. But before he could reply, Kara slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Of course! He's family, too.” She said, pointing at him, both of them smiling now in that familial way that made something inside Bruce's chest ache.

“Wow!” Clark's excitement was practically palpable, the boy bouncing on his feet.

And that, somehow made it feel even more like someone was scraping out Bruce's insides.

His mind had gotten stuck on a single word, replaying it over and over again as Alfred had sternly urged everyone to move the conversation out of the foyer and to the dining room.

Family.

The people slowly trickled out of the foyer. Clark, Conner and Kara kept on talking about something, about the farm and Clark's parents-

Kara had even picked Clark up, making the boy yelp in surprise, people too far already to see Bruce's flinch and aborted reaching for Clark at the sudden movement. And maybe…. maybe Bruce's breath had gotten a little unsteady.

Clark was smiling.

Clark was smiling, and he looked happier than he had in the past few days and the three of them looked so alike and-

And they would- They would leave and Clark-

“Master Bruce?”

Bruce jolted.

Not too far from them, Dick had turned back as well, sensing that something was going amiss, and before anyone else could notice anything Bruce blurted a hurried: "I'm- I'm not hungry, Alfred. I'm going back to the library.” Before turning on his heels.

There was a terrible ringing in his head, but, before he could flee, a gentle but firm hand landed on his shoulder, stopping Bruce in his tracks.

“Master Bruce.” Alfred said, more insistent this time. And yet, his voice was gentle. Gentle in a way Bruce rarely ever remembered it being. 

“We have guests over.” The butler had said. “It would be impolite to not show your face at dinner, plus, I must insist that you eat something.”

Out of everyone else, Dick was the first to react, exchanging a silent conversation with Alfred before ushering people down the hallway. Bruce could barely hear his “Come on, everyone, they'll catch up”, and a few of the hesitant protests. Clark's eyes landed on Bruce's, the other boy's concern twisting something inside his gut. Clark was saying something. He was squirming in Kara's arms, but Bruce wasn't sure what was being said.

The ringing wouldn't stop. In fact, it had only gotten worse. And so had his breathing.   

Looking after the others for a moment to make sure they were far enough out of earshot Alfred waited, before turning fully to him and crouching down slowly onto one knee, something in his eyes turning unbearably soft.

Bruce felt like flinching away from this gaze alone.

It was nothing like the Alfred he knew, the grey of his temples and brow making Bruce's hands tremble.

“Master Bruce…” The butler started. ” I should have said this a long time ago, but you must know that if anything is troubling you, you could always tell me.”

The words didn't make any sense. Bruce felt like he didn't even understand them, Alfred's gaze searching and each breath being harder to take than the last.

“I would always be here for you. You aren't alone, Master Bruce. And-”

“No.”

Bruce's yell cut off the butler.

Alfred's eyebrows lifted in surprise for a moment, before furrowing in concern. The earlier spark of anger Bruce felt was turning into a raging inferno. He could barely contain himself now, a rage like he had never felt before suddenly overtaking him in the wake of all these lies.

“No!” He repeated again, shaking off Alfred's hand and stepping back.

“No-no-no!- You're a liar!” He screamed. “Stop acting like you care! I know you don't care! No one does!”

Bruce's voice broke at the last sentence and he wasn't sure if it was him or the world that was shaking, but it didn't even matter, and nothing mattered, because this Manor wasn't even his- This Alfred was a stranger, and the Manor was just full off strangers and Clark would also be ripped away from him, he would leave, he-

Bruce didn't know what had shown on his face, but Alfred's expression had crumpled, and he didn't even care anymore if any of these strange people heard his outburst. Bruce was scared- He was terrified and he- he wanted his mom and dad-

“My boy…” Alfred breathed out, gently. And it, those words- They were the last straw.

“You're not my dad!” Bruce screamed. Roared. There was a desperate, angry animal inside him that was clawing its way out, and it hurt. “You’ll never be my dad- You're just the butler! I am alone, and I will always be alone, because my parents are dead!-”

Tears were streaming down Bruce's face now, burning and unrestrained and the look of entire and utter heartbreak on Alfred's face made him hiccup, stumbling back.

“They- they are…”

His eyes were wild, and the boy was shaking like a leaf, almost as if the realisation had only just struck, eyes blurring with the memory of bloodied hands and scattered pearls.

Unseeing, Bruce broke into a run.

In the resounding silence his steps echoed like thunder.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Dick felt frozen where he stood.

Not like other people were faring much better, but the echo of Bruce's words had unexpectedly hurt him, the memory of his own parents making a lump clog up his throat for a moment.

He…

He also remembered a very similar argument between him and Bruce happening when he was very little, younger Dick screaming at the man that he wasn't his dad and that he should stop trying to replace his parents, Bruce floundering in the wake of his young ward's anguish.

It took him a moment, but on unsteady legs he had made his way back over to Alfred, gently placing a hand on his grandfather's shoulder. For a moment, Alfred didn't react, just closing his slightly wet eyes with a rare, unrestrained glimmer of anguish, Dick's lunch feeling like it was going to go back up his throat.

Dick helped Alfred stand, the old man's joints probably hurting from being in the awkward position for a while as everyone got their bearings back. As much as Dick had tried, things had escalated far too quickly, the awkward scene inevitably heard by almost everyone in the family, Kara and Conner looking entirely too awkward to have witnessed it.

Dick didn't need to look to know that Cass’s eyes were a little wet, too, or that Tim had shut himself off while Duke looked anxious, little Dami adopting a stern expression.

Clark was probably the most anxious among them, head whirling fast between the rest of them and where Bruce had disappeared, but Kara was still holding him pretty tight.

Alfred straightened, patting his suit on pure reflex.

“Thank you, Master Richard.” He said.

Alfred's eyes were distant.

And this… Something about this made Dick feel truly small, like a lost child again, unsure of what to do on his first real dangerous mission. Except this time there was no Bruce to guide him, to quietly and calmly tell him what to do, in his curt, Batman way, his words a steady stream of reassurance in Dick's ear and his arms ready to catch him and whisk him away at a moment's notice.

“He just… He just needs time to cool off.” Dick tried, summoning a smile he didn't feel. It probably wasn't one of his best smiles, practically fraying at the edges, but Alfred returned his smile with a slightly strained one of his own, one that made Dick's shoulders loosen a fraction regardless, the butler already turning and heading to the people at the end of the hallway.

“I do apologize that you had to witness that.” Alfred said to both Kon and Kara, smiling at Clark in his grandfatherly way, looking almost as unflappable as always, traces of sadness making his shoulders just a little tight.

Cass took a brief moment to hug him, making him smile gratefully at her as well.

It wasn't long before everyone was herded by Alfred into the kitchen, their guests leaving not too long after the meal, not wanting to overstay their welcome especially after bearing witness to such an emotionally fraught scene.

“We'll see each other again soon, okay, cousin?” Kara said once both her and Con had geared out to leave.

Clark smiled at her slightly, a small little sun in his own right, even if it felt like it was a little overcast by the earlier clouds.

Kara and Dick's eyes met, the young woman rolling her shoulders slightly, acknowledging that they still needed to talk about that adoption and all, as Conner was saying his goodbyes too.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Clark remembered falling asleep late the previous night. The whole time he was tossing and turning, thinking about what Bruce had said and looking at the wall separating their two rooms. 

When Mister Pennyworth, Duke, Tim and Cass checked the previous evening, his room was still locked. Bruce didn't answer any of them either, even when Clark hesitantly tried calling for him too, a tray of dinner Mister Pennyworth had left him going entirely untouched. Tim suggested that it was because there were too many of them, and they should give Bruce some more time, everyone eventually settling in for the night.

So, when in the morning Mister Pennyworth had come to wake him, Clark could barely open his eyes, sleep groggy and more than a little tired.

“You best wash your face and freshen up before breakfast, Master Clark.” The butler suggested, kindly, guiding a barely functional and yawning boy by his back toward the bathroom until Clark could finally wash his face and brush his teeth, the toothbrush still in his mouth when a harried looking Duke suddenly burst into the room, startling both Mister Pennyworth who was in the process of smoothing out the sheets and Clark.

“I- I can't find him!” Duke blurted, out of breath and making Mister Pennyworth’s brow crease.

“Master Duke-” Alfred started, looking the boy up and down in concern. Duke looked about ready for school, but the panic in his face and his rumpled appearance were rather worrying. 

“You don't- You don't understand, Alfred, I've- His door was unlocked, and I've checked every little corner of his room and bathroom but he's-”

A dawning understanding made Alfred's face pale.

“Bruce is missing.” Duke finally breathed out, a little desperate.

And suddenly, Clark wasn't feeling all that asleep anymore.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Over the course of the next few hours, almost the entire family had been rallied, everyone except for an extremely worried Dick, who was still present via the near constant messages, and who Mister Pennyworth had to have a stern talk with about missing his work. Even Jason, Barbara and Steph had been called to action, after an hour had passed and they still couldn't find Bruce, both Jason and Steph arriving in the Manor via that cave space and checking it for any signs of the boy, Clark confessing that he suspected that Bruce had guessed the time needed to enter it correctly that one time they tried to open the passage, even if he never tried it. Barbara was checking all the available video footage, and by the sounds of it, Bruce had somehow managed to avoid almost all the security cameras, only a few of them showing the approximate path the boy took through the Manor.

Clark, Tim and Cassandra even checked out the hidden tunnels in full, Clark feeling awful about having to tell them about Bruce's secret but too worried for his friend to stay silent.

“We should go out there!” Jason argued. “What if those fu-”

He received a stern glance from Alfred.

“What if those guys got him?” He corrected, practically growling. “Practically the whole city is looking for the little bugger at the moment.”

Just like the rest of them, he looked a lot more tired since the last time Clark had seen him, bags under his eyes and an agitated air about his movements. He was gesturing in a way that was supposed to mean something, surely, the real meaning going over Clark's head.

“I don't think he actually left the Manor's grounds.” Barbara's voice sounded through the tablet Tim had been holding. After they've searched for hours with next to no results Mister Pennyworth had to put his foot down and make them eat something, especially since almost all of them had missed breakfast and lunch. “Or we would have known about it. He must be hiding somewhere.”

‘Why would he run away, even?” Steph asked, looking a little awkward where she sat at the top of the couch. Clark couldn't tell exactly, but it looked like something had been going on between her and Cass, the girls sitting next to each other but maintaining a small amount of distance. And still, whatever it was, whether it was Clark's fault or not, she had still shown up, in the end, when it came to Bruce's safety. “Did something happen?”

There were a few winces in the room, Jason also raising a questioning eyebrow.

“It's… a lot to explain.” Tim sighed, throwing a sympathetic glance towards Mister Pennyworth, who only shook his head. Duke winced again, Damian scrunching his nose and Cass closed her eyes momentarily.

“It's okay, Master Timothy.” The butler exhaled, quietly, before taking a moment to gather his words.

“Yesterday, Master Bruce and I… Had a bit of an altercation.”

Jason's eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, Steph looking just as surprised, even leaning forward dramatically, nearly toppling from her perch.

“What?” Jason sounded genuinely surprised. Then, his brows furrowed, and he demanded: “What did he do?” 

Alfred only shook his head again, Clark fiddling with his hands awkwardly at the memory. Damian's eyes flashed, for some reason, his brows furrowing at the somewhat accusing tone.

“Todd, why do you always assume the worst of fath-” he cut himself off, teeth scraping and Jason only raising another eyebrow, a silent conversation going on for a moment before Damian huffed and crossed his arms, Jason just rolling his eyes.

“I… Master Bruce isn't to blame for any of this, Master Jason.” Alfred added quietly, even if Jason looked like he wanted to argue, a genuine concern breaking through his stoic mask for a moment.

“Ah…” Barbara said, all of a sudden, her voice tiny from the tablet's microphone, reminding everyone of her presence. “I… Found the footage.”

An uncomfortable air settled over the room, Jason and Steph still remaining just as confused, before suddenly, Mister Pennyworth stood up, eyes glinting with the realization.

“Of course.” The butler said, almost looking like he was frustrated with himself. “I believe I know where young Master Bruce must have gone.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Clark awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, standing before the imposing mausoleum. It was already getting dark, but not dark enough to see, and the stone and marble building stood tall at the edge of the woods before him.

When Mister Pennyworth had said that Clark might have to be the one to try and talk Bruce into going back to the Manor, he didn't even hesitate before agreeing.

“I feel Master Clark would be the only one he'll respond to.” Mister Pennyworth explained, something somber in his gaze. He looked tired, and for some reason, Clark knew that he should never look like that.

“Of course!” Clark said, his brows furrowing in determination, before adding sincerely: “I'll do anything for Bruce.”

“Thank you, Master Clark.” The old butler said, and he sounded incredibly fond. ”Thank you for being there for him.”

Even now Mister Pennyworth was waiting just a few ways away with Tim, everyone else deciding to wait in the Manor, not to overwhelm Bruce, Clark looking back over his shoulder at them before taking a little steadying breath and  pushing open the massive door with all his might, the wood creaking slightly as he stepped into the darkness.

He didn't even notice Bruce at first.

For a moment, when his eyes adjusted, Clark just stood there, heart beating fast as he looked over the stone plates with names of the previous Waynes on them barely legible in the near darkness, until his eyes finally landed on a small shape that was huddled in the corner next to two very specific stone carvings, dark and unmoving.

Clark's breath caught in his throat, a worry so great he felt like his world was tilting, overcoming him all of a sudden.

“Bruce…?” He called, and if it weren't for the tiniest flinch of that dark shape, he would have probably thought that the other hadn't heard him. But he did, and it left Clark feeling a little relieved as he carefully made his way further into the darkness, right up until there were just a few meager steps separating him and Bruce. He wasn't sure why, but it felt necessary to leave Bruce this space, like he would slip through Clark's fingers if he didn't do so, like the little chicks back at the farm when he tried to catch them.

It was a little cold here. And now that Clark was finally close enough to see, he could tell that Bruce was shivering slightly, clutching onto another smaller shape and his back to the entrance, face smushed into the cold marble. Bruce didn't speak. Only curled in on himself more, almost as if Clark would go away if he pretended that he wasn't there.

Two beady little eyes on a small head were poking out from his tight hug.

Clark's own eyes widened.

The little dinosaur toy Clark had picked out stared back at Clark. Something about that felt very sad.

“Bruce…” Clark tried again. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, what he was supposed to say, so he just said something similar to what his Pa said, that time Clark had hid himself in the barn after breaking Ma’s favorite plate. “I… Everyone was really worried.”

And, just like a slightly younger Clark did that time, Bruce had answered:

“Go away.”

Clark paused. Then, he had seated himself further, making his point clear.

“I'm not leaving without you.” He said, just a little more firmly. And Bruce seemed to have understood by the way he had squeezed the little dinosaur tighter.

Absently, Clark ran his hands over the stone floor.

“This morning when…” He tried, getting a little choked up all of a sudden. “When you weren't in your room, I- It scared me.”

The quiet admission had fallen heavily into the empty air of the mausoleum, and Bruce flinched, the movement catching Clark's eye.

Clark really was terrified. The entire time he… He didn't know what to do with himself, and when no one could seemingly find Bruce, he…

He had to swallow hard to push down the feeling.

They just sat there, the quiet stretching, and his eyes further adjusting to the dim lighting.

“Are these… Are these your parents?” Clark asked reverently in a hushed tone.

Bruce almost never talked about them. And it wasn't hard to put two and two together, as to what really happened, the big portrait of a happy couple and a smaller Bruce in one of the living rooms catching Clark's eye from the very first time they had gone exploring the Manor.

It seemed like he wouldn't get an answer this time, either.

But then, Bruce suddenly whispered: 

“Yeah.”

Silence.

Clark just looked at the other boy, his heart aching for his friend.

“I…” Bruce started. Then, he stopped himself. He practically had to force his words out. “I miss them.”

Clark didn't know what to say. But it seemed like he didn't need to. Because Bruce was speaking again, voice hoarse and quiet, as Clark cautiously inched himself closer.

“I'm sorry. I just- I know you want to be back with your- With your family.”

Not sure where this was suddenly coming from, Clark turned his head. Bruce had uncurled himself a little too, and Clark could now see a bit of his pale face, tear tracks staining his cheeks and eyes red from what had to be crying for a really long time. It was wrong, seeing Bruce like this, a boy who had so confidently saved Clark, who always seemed so cool and collected and who always knew stuff Clark didn't.

But Bruce had seemed smaller now. Smaller and more fragile in a way Clark wasn't used to, and Clark felt so much, way too much for him already, but now everything felt so much stronger.

“You should go.” Bruce was saying. “I'll… I'll be okay. That- That person, Kara. She… She’ll probably come back soon to take you back to the farm.”

Bruce had to stifle a hiccup.

“I- I'm sorry for making you and everyone else worry. I'm- I'm sorry I'm like this, and you- You shouldn't even see it.”

The words were clearly choking him, his hands tightening on the little dinosaur, but his face remained impassive as Bruce suddenly glanced straight at Clark.

“I just…Thank you for- for everything. Thank you for being my friend, Clark.”

And Clark couldn't speak. It was overwhelming, and he didn't understand any of what Bruce was saying he didn't want to understand-

Not wanting to think anymore, Clark leaped forward, startling Bruce and crushing the smaller boy into a tight hug.

“I'm not leaving you!” Clark practically yelled, startling both himself and Bruce, practically shaking with all these emotions.

“I- I don't want to leave you!” He declared, clutching onto Bruce like a lifeline.

Bruce was trembling. Probably from the cold, but eventually, his hands had come up to clutch at Clark too, his grip loose.

“It's… It's okay.” Bruce whispered, and Clark wasn't sure who he was trying to convince with that. “I- I understand, and I'm- and I'm older and that's why-”

Clark had to make the boy look at him, as he let go of the hug and took Bruce's hands. He shook his head.

“No.” Clark said, and Clark wasn't sure where this confidence was coming from, but he felt like he had to say it. 

Bruce looked confused, and more than a little rumpled.

“I-” Clark's cheeks were hot, and he was rambling, words spilling out that just felt right on his tongue. I- I really like you, as in like-like you, and- And I promise to never let you go if- if you'll have me.”

The other boy's eyes had widened. And he was the prettiest boy Clark had ever seen, his heart beating fast in his throat with the weight of his sudden confession.

“We should get married! When we grow up.” Clark finally blurted, short of breath and probably red as a tomato. “I- I want to marry you! And that way we'll be together forever!”

And Bruce… Bruce looked at him with those wide, pale eyes that Clark had secretly admired for weeks now, and just nodded. His cheeks were visibly getting pinker too, but at least he didn't look like he was shivering from the cold anymore. Clark himself was probably shaking, still reeling from everything that he admitted, but it was okay because Bruce hadn't pushed him away and-

Suddenly, Bruce had closed his eyes tightly and leaned closer, his lips brushing Clark's cheek lightly and making it feel like Clark's heart could leap out of his ribcage.

“I…” There was a beautiful flush on Bruce's cheeks.

“I want to marry you too.” He whispered, a little confession just for the two of them, and Clark's heart was just so full. Clark never felt like he truly belonged. Not before this very moment. Not until he met Bruce, and it felt like something had finally slotted together.

Bruce's eyes met his again. “I like you too, Clark.”

Clark beamed. He was practically bouncing on his knees where he was sitting, both of the boys holding hands and smiling, overcome with happiness.

“Can I-” Clark asked, a little awkward, only just now realizing how many of Bruce's boundaries he'd unexpectedly pushed.

Clark opened his arms.

Bruce seemed to get a little redder, but he nodded.

“Of-of course you can. Whenever you want. Since… Since we're going to get married...” 

Bruce was so cute. And Clark hugged him tightly, no longer holding anything back, Bruce's arms immediately coming up around him too for the second time, this time much more confidently, the little dinosaur awkwardly caught in-between their bodies.

And oh wow, Bruce had kissed him! 

Only his Ma and Pa ever kissed Clark, and somehow, that made this whole thing even more real.

Clark had never felt so giddy in his life.

For a long while the boys had just sat there, just clinging to each other, until Clark finally stood, offering Bruce his hand with a smile.

He felt like everything had changed. Or maybe everything had just finally slotted into place, Clark smiling happily as he helped him up, before pausing to look at the two headstones.

“I- I'm going to marry your son, Mister and Missis Wayne.” Clark said, happy, never feeling so certain about anything in his life. And- And I promise to make him really happy!”

And Bruce clutched at his hand tighter, his other hand coming up to rub furiously at his eyes, a little sniffle making it past his lips.

He made a little noise of agreement.

And as he finally looked back up at Clark, he was smiling.

Chapter Text

“It’s been a while. Should we go check on them..?” Tim asked, looking at a distant shadow of the Wayne family mausoleum. The sun had almost set, and soon, everything would be plunged into darkness, dark clouds promising Gotham another one of the city's numerous rainy nights.

Almost as soon as the question had left his lips, though, the door to the mausoleum finally cracked open, Clark's dark head of curly hair poking out. The boy's back was turned as he looked back inside speaking a little too quietly for Tim to hear. But whatever Clark said must have worked, because soon Bruce poked his head out, too, Tim's eyes catching onto the dinosaur the boy had carried with him and onto the two kids’ clasped hands.

Tim felt his own shoulders sag in relief.

Bruce was here. He was okay. His clothes were a little dirty and eyes still held that telltale trace of redness, but he was okay. They really did find him. Tim turned, smiling tiredly at Alfred, before lifting his tablet and sending a quick ‘We got him’ into the group chat, almost missing the shy little smiles both boys exchanged as they finally stepped fully into the light.

As soon as Bruce's eyes landed onto the two distant figures, however, he stiffened, smile dropping, an oblivious and happy looking Clark leading him straight to Tim and Alfred with a wave.

An awkward silence settled in the air. Tim could see Alfred straightening, the relief in his face melting into something stern. Still, something in the old butler's posture did not feel quite right; and for some reason Tim couldn't figure out exactly what, the feeling niggling away at him like an unsolved puzzle. He himself frowned at Bruce, unhappy with what he had put them all through today with his little stunt.

Uncomfortable under the weight of their stares, Bruce averted his eyes.

“Master Bruce.” Alfred said, primly. There was a sternness to his tone too, now, a parent lecturing an unruly child. Tim heard him speak this way to their actual Bruce many times; mostly when he'd been trying to hide the extent of his injuries or stubbornly refusing to come out of the Cave for some rest and or food. Funnily enough, it was the first time Tim heard Alfred speak this way to little Bruce, though. “You shouldn't have run away like you did.”

Bruce's mouth thinned. He was still holding hands with Clark, the other boy sending him an awkward glance.

“I'm sorry.” Bruce eventually said, his tone level. Alfred's eyes were still boring into him, the air stilted. Alfred's creased brow twitched, for a moment, and Tim could have sworn he caught something pained in his eyes.

“You made everyone rather worried, Master Bruce.”

Bruce didn't flinch at that, but it was a close thing.

“You are not to do it again, or there will be consequences.” Alfred said, and, after a moment's hesitation, little Bruce nodded. Alfred still kept his stern stare for a few moments longer, however, before letting out a soft exhale.

“If you understand what you did wrong, Master Bruce, you are now free to head back. We shall talk about this more later.”

And, with that, Bruce had practically dragged Clark back towards the Manor, the butler's eyes following them as they went.

Tim shot him a worried look.

“You okay?” He quietly asked, when the kids had gotten far enough, and Alfred's eyes snapped to his, a tired smile crinkling his eyes at the edges. His gaze was tired, but warm.

“Of course, Master Timothy. There is no need for you to worry, I assure you.”

Tim wasn't convinced, but he held his tongue, eyes once again looking after the kids.

“We should probably catch up to them.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Clark was already fast asleep when a shy knock at his door came, waking him, the boy sitting up in bed slowly and rubbing at his eyes. There was a soft patter of rain outside, shadows of clouds dancing through the large window.

“Yeah?..” Clark asked, letting out a sleepy yawn.

For a moment, it had been silent.

“Clark?..” Bruce's voice was small, even muffled as it was through the door, but it still managed to wake Clark in an instant.

In a rush to get out of bed Clark practically tumbled off of it, getting tangled in his own too large sheets and having to wrestle them before hurrying towards the door, steps a loud pitter patter on the hard wood floor of the guest room.

But Bruce must have still taken his silence the wrong way, because he was already speaking again, voice still muffled.

“Sorry... I know I probably woke you, I- Nevermind, I'll just- ” 

Bruce was cut off when Clark practically slammed the door open, words teetering off as the two of them ended up face to face. 

“-leave…”

For a few quiet moments, the two boys just looked at each other, surrounded by distant rain.

It was kind of hard to see, but Clark could make out just enough to notice that Bruce looked tired again, tired and more than a little sad, like he did when Clark found him earlier in his family's mausoleum, except now he was wearing his plain grey pajamas with one simple black bat on a breast pocket, Clark's own decorated with tiny rocket ships and a splatter of stars. 

After returning with Bruce when they finally found him things felt a tad awkward, everyone's attention suddenly on the boy and not waning throughout the whole evening. The late dinner felt rather awkward too, although Steph and Jason had stayed throughout it, making it considerably livelier, some jabs and quiet conversation exchanged between the Manor's residents. People were clearly keeping their eyes on Bruce, though, the constant attention making even Clark, who was largely unaffected by it, pretty nervous.

It didn't fully register at first, what Bruce had actually said, but when the other boy nervously dropped his gaze, stepping from foot to foot Clark hastily reached out again, grasping his hand with his own.

“No, no- you don't have to leave! Here, come in-” And he was already leading Bruce into his room and towards the bed, the boy sitting awkwardly on the edge of it as Clark lifted the blanket that had half fallen off it in his earlier haste to get up, trying not to feel too flustered about that.

When Clark was done, he sat himself on the edge of the bed too, legs dangling as he thought for a moment before shuffling closer, smiling when Bruce did the same after a moment's hesitation, their hands brushing.

“Did something happen?” Clark asked, quietly. It felt right to speak in hushed tones, even though their rooms were further away from everyone else’s and the rain was now loud enough so that no one would hear them.

Bruce looked embarrassed as he shook his head.

“It's… nothing.” 

His hands were balling up in the sheets, though, Clark looking at them and frowning before lifting his worried gaze back up to his face. Bruce seemed like he had more to say, however, so Clark stayed silent.

“I'm… I just thought… If you don't mind, maybe we could-” He stumbled. “When we were brought to the Manor together, you… I mean, I just couldn't sleep, and… And it- I mean, I felt-”

Bruce was visibly growing frustrated with himself now, unable to string words together. Still, he was trying.

“I felt- I feel safe, when you’re next to me.” Bruce had finally managed, a quiet admittance.

Clark just blinked a few times, surprised.

When they were first brought to the Manor, Clark remembered rolling in his too large bed, restless and anxious, before finally getting up. He was missing the distant sounds of cicadas and farm animals, Pa’s muffled snoring just barely audible through the walls of his family home and the natural creaks of the house. Not knowing what else to do or who to turn to, he eventually gathered up the courage to see if Bruce was awake, relieved beyond measure when the other boy offered his help.

But this time, it was Bruce that came to him. Bruce, who turned out to be feeling so scared and lonely this whole time, with Clark none the wiser.

“Of course!” He blurted, just a little hurried.

Clark's cheeks heated in embarrassment at how obviously excited he sounded. It's just… It's just that everything somehow felt special, with Bruce. Even when they were now- When they would-

His heart was beating fast again, cheeks practically burning.

But this… This was normal, right? For- This was what adults did.

“It's- Of course we can, um. Just… When… When two people are married, they sleep next to each other, right? And we're… Since we're going to get married, I think it would be okay. And I would- I would really like that. I- I feel safe next to you, too.”

He was definitely rambling now, sneaking little glances towards Bruce, who was holding himself carefully still.

At the end of Clark's speech, Bruce gave him a little nod, his cheeks seemingly darker, too. It was a little hard to tell in the dark.

Clark could feel his own hands getting clammy.

“I… Married people do often sleep next to each other.” Bruce confirmed quietly, after a small stretch of silence.

“Then, if…” The boy even sounded like he was blushing. “If you really don't mind.”

And Clark really didn't need to be encouraged, he was already shifting to get into bed and lifting the covers for both of them, two boys sliding under the huge, heavy blanket.

After some scooting and shuffling, the two of them ended up face to face, just like they did on that first day, a sense of unreality lingering as they looked at each other. Something about this felt different though.

Clark wasn't sure who was the first to reach out, but their hands ended up close together again, little fingers touching, and he couldn't get tired of this no matter how often they did it, feeling so awake and so giddy, unable to stop all the smiles that were breaking out across his face, catching a few of Bruce's soft little smiles too, even if the other boy tried to hide them behind his own pillow.

Unable to help himself, Clark giggled, Bruce letting out a tiny huff, too.

“It's… like we're already married.” Clark whispered with a goofy smile.

Bruce just let out a little agreeing hum and Clark’s heart felt so full. He felt like he could actually float, cheeks hurting from all the smiling.

“Goodnight, Clark.” Bruce whispered, after some time had passed with them just smiling at each other in the dark and Clark's eyelids had grown rather heavy.

Clark echoed it with a goodnight of his own, warm and happy, eyes finally falling closed.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

“There you are!” A newly familiar voice sounded, making Clark straighten and crane his neck in his chair, Bruce going stiff right beside him. It was a weird couple of days, what with how now there was almost always at least one person keeping an eye on him and Bruce, probably worried about Bruce disappearing again.

“Kara!” Clark smiled, jumping off to go greet her. He really didn't expect to see his cousin again so soon, Alfred quietly closing the door behind her and Tim lifting his eyes from his tablet as she came up to him, ruffling his hair and making the boy protest.

Bruce remained seated, but as Clark looked back at him and smiled his shoulders seemed to loosen a little.

Today, it was Tim who was sticking around them the most, despite looking even more tired and overworked than usual, three empty mugs of coffee already piled on the table right next to him as he quietly typed, said typing pausing with the new arrival.

“Kara.” Tim frowned, as he acknowledged her, tone slightly dubious “Kon didn't say you were going to visit.”

“I just came here to check up on everything.” The woman shrugged in response, swishing her hair back. “Heard you’ve got your hands full, what with all the recent breakouts.”

Clark tilted his head, not sure what they were talking about, and Tim's frown deepened.

“We've got it handled.” He insisted. “You should worry more about Metropolis and the Legion.”

“And about the other thing? I know what Dick said, but wouldn't it be easier on all of you if Clark came with me?” As she said it, she looked back down at Clark, who was looking at her, wide eyed.

“I’m afraid the situation is a little more delicate than you think, Miss Danvers.” Alfred interjected, finally, Tim standing too after discarding his tablet, something strange in the air. The butler proceeded to level an unimpressed look back at Tim as he gathered the cups on a tray, Tim simply wincing at his silent judgement and saying a ‘thank you, Alfred’.

Kara put her hands on her hips.

“I think we should let Clark decide that for himself.” She announced, looking back towards Clark. Unable to follow any of what had been said, Clark just startled, but she was already crouching down in front of him, smiling.

“Do you want to go back to the farm with me?”

Clark's eyes went wide.

He could- He could finally see Ma and Pa..?

He practically blurted out an agreement, but then, the memory of red rimmed icy blue eyes staring at him in the dark had him pause.

Clark shook his head, surprising Kara with the way he rushed back towards the table where Bruce had tentatively gotten off his chair too, blinking at Clark as his hand was tightly grasped.

“I'm not going anywhere without Bruce!” Clark declared loudly, looking into the other boy's wide eyes and squeezing his hand in reassurance before turning his determined face back at Kara.

He puffed out his chest, which, unbeknownst to him, just looked adorable to the adults, Bruce gazing up at him with a soft sort of hope.

Kara blinked. Then, opened her mouth, but quickly closed it, looking quizzically at the two boys. For what felt like the first time, she really took Bruce in, even if he wasn't holding her gaze. Tim just looked startled when Clark turned his eyes towards him, but Alfred’s lips twitched in a smile, Clark smiling widely at him as he'd caught it.

“Well…” Kara stood. She looked rather intrigued now as she exchanged glances with Tim.

“See?” Tim shrugged, although he looked somewhat unsure. “We've got it under control, and I know that Dick is trying to plan for the worst, but I think they should both stay, so we can keep watch.”

“Or…” Kara's eyes glinted in mischief. “They could just both come back with me to the farm while you deal with your rogues.”

Tim stiffened. Kara grinned wider, looking from him and to Alfred, whose face turned unreadable.

Clark's eyes, however, were gleaming again.

“Can we?” He was so excited he felt like jumping, but he just looked towards Bruce, a smile spreading, the other boy seemingly startled at the sheer idea. “Do you wanna go see the farm and meet Ma and Pa?”

Bruce's cheeks reddened, the reaction eliciting a raised eyebrow from Kara, and then the boy nodded, just a slight incline of the head.

Kara's smile towards Tim turned rather smug.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

“We are not letting father out of sight in this state!” Damian snapped, seemingly done with the conversation. He was clearly concerned, anxious over Bruce's well being, even if he showed it by lashing out. Dick laid a calming hand on his shoulder, Damian stiffening and glaring at him before shrugging it off lightly and crossing his arms. At least it seemed to placate him a little, even if the overall atmosphere in the cave remained gloomy. Practically everyone had gathered here, tired vigilantes in and out of costumes sat at the table or lounging somewhere near the batcomputer, with Alfred off to the side, busying himself with cleaning. Like the savior she was, Barbara volunteered to look after the kids for a few hours, the three of them probably busy watching some movie or other upstairs. After a month and a particularly gruelling week, they were all worn pretty thin, the rogues of Gotham growing incredibly active as if sensing their weakness, rumors of Batman being gone persisting and new villainous schemes popping up almost every few days. Timmy's costume was still ruined with green and purple paint after his fight with the riddler.

Dick was tired. He headed straight here after work, and they'd been over this whole discussion a few times already, but were getting nowhere. Dick wasn't as opposed to the idea of sending Bruce and Clark to go visit the Kents as some of his other family members were, but he could still get their worry. It was a niggling feeling in the back of his mind, ever since this all started; ever since they'd found two of the world's greatest heroes turned scared little kids in the sewers. An ever present worry, one only exacerbated the more time had passed and they couldn't solve this, exacerbated by Bruce running away at the start of this week. Dick had practically lost his mind back then, especially because he'd actually witnessed Bruce's preceding fight with Alfred. At that his eyes flitted to the butler, who had remained mostly silent throughout this whole thing, focused on his work. It was concerning in its own right; even with Alfred usually deferring to them in vigilante-related decision making, he would still freely offer his input. Dick knew others noticed it too. And, since they were still getting nowhere with the problem at hand, he supposed there was no better time to address this.

“Alfred?”

Alfred looked up from Duke's discarded armor plate, their eyes meeting.

“Yes, Master Richard?”

Dick rubbed at his neck. It was still a little sore from the few lackluster hours of sleep that he'd gotten on his couch.

“What do you think? You… I know I'm not the only one who's noticed that you've been pretty off-kilter lately.” He briefly looked towards his siblings for confirmation. Tim's expression turned pensive, Damian furrowing his eyebrows and Jason shifting from foot to foot where he was leaning against the side of the table. Duke blinked a few times, his and Cass’ perceptive eyes immediately turning to Alfred.

“You feel sad.” Cass said, in agreement with Dick's earlier words and signing as she spoke. “We worry.”

It made Alfred's eyes soften, Steph piping up with her own:

“Yeah, you know you can tell us what's bothering you. It's a two-way street after all.”

Alfred seemed touched by the nods that whole sentence received, but the way he closed his eyes was melancholic.

“And I am very grateful to you all. But these old butler's worries shouldn't burden young misses and masters.”

This time, it was Jason who furrowed his brows.

“No, this has been bothering me for a while, too. What happened between you and Bruce? He's- He's not acting the way I expected. I thought he would be, y'know, like clinging to you and stuff but…” He gestured vaguely. Jason wasn't good with this emotional stuff. None of them were, but his next words made Dick smile, gruff but sincere. “We’re all here for you. And I guess little Bruce, too, or whatever.”

Damian sniffed.

“I have to agree with Todd. It seems important. To father and you both.”

“It… really would not be a burden. Bruce seemed a little off to me, too, so… Maybe we could help?” Duke added, shrugging. Tim, idly spinning next to him in the batchair, nodded, and Dick did the same.

Alfred's lip twitched in a brief smile. He closed his eyes in assent.

“It’s… a complicated matter. But you are right. As much as I would rather not burden you, perhaps you should know. It is connected to your mentor and father, after all.”

For a few moments, Alfred seemed to ponder his words.

“As I'm sure you have gathered, the fight Master Bruce and I had… Quite a few similar conflicts had happened between us before, back in his teenage years.”

The confirmation felt heavy. Dick tried not to dwell at it, but it was nearly impossible. He remembered throwing similar words in Bruce's face as a teenager, this incredible loss that he'd felt turned to anger. He'd always felt bad about it afterwards, even if he didn't fully allow himself to think of Bruce as a father figure until adulthood.

Jason was frowning. It wasn't hard to guess that he blamed Bruce for this, having come to Bruce in much different circumstances than Dick. Even if they didn't talk about it much now, Jason was technically Bruce's first son. Almost as if sensing this underlying hostility, Alfred continued:

“I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you, I do not blame him for this. Young Master Bruce came to me very suddenly, and I must admit I was not ready for that responsibility. Of course, I was always a close friend to the family, but taking on raising a child, especially one as lonely and traumatized as Master Bruce… “ He paused, lost in the memories. “After the tragic passing of miss Martha and master Thomas, master Bruce was just never the same. As you might imagine, raising him was… Rather difficult.”

“The first year we spent together was heartbreaking. Master Bruce always had trouble sleeping, but he was especially plagued by nightmares during this time, and I've had to resort to sleeping in the room right next to his so that he could come to me when things got bad. He refused to go to school, and had practically lost all other connections. I wasn't quite sure how to provide him with the proper comfort. As a consequence of what had happened, Master Bruce had gotten increasingly wary of strangers as well, to the point that I'd had to dismiss most of the Manor's staff.”

In another pause that created, Steph added:

“I always wondered about that.” 

Attention now on her, Steph simply shrugged.

“I mean, I knew from Tim that Alfred was like the only one working in bossman's too big Manor for ages now. There was not even a gardener, which, I mean, seems weird having a butler but no other people, right?”

Alfred's lips twitched in the tiniest smile.

“That is indeed why that was, miss Stephanie. Master Bruce always had a tough time letting people in.” His face fell.“ And, sometimes I fear it is my fault for not trying to rectify that.”

“Alfred-” Dick's brows furrowed, but Alfred held out his hand to stop his protest, before continuing.

“There’s no need to protest that, master Richard.” He said. “I am very grateful that all of you hold me in high regard, but I know I made a lot of mistakes while raising master Bruce. I see now that he needed a more simple comfort, one I was not able to provide while trying to balance my professional duties. And I'm afraid I- I was far too distant and strict with my boy, leaving him without any physical and even emotional affection.”

Alfred closed his eyes. They had gotten a tiny bit misty, the sheer regret in Alfred's tone worse than a physical punch to the gut.

 Dick briefly looked at his hands. He really didn't expect just how familiar this whole thing would have felt. But, when he was growing up- while Bruce struggled with his first foray into parenthood, Dick had Alfred. Alfred, with his kind eyes and words, who readily offered him comfort and reassurance, who made sure Bruce had provided what Dick had needed. It wasn't all good, Bruce had still really fumbled, and fumbled a lot, but- But Dick just never imagined that Alfred, who had helped raise him, - raise all of them, - would have initially struggled with that.

Alfred continued.

“Many people had tried or had taken advantage of him at that age, without my knowledge. As much as I tried to protect him- I… I only came to know after. As you might imagine, there were a lot of eyes on Master Bruce, ever since his childhood, due to the vast wealth left to him by his parents. And my own awkward care left him with very little support. By the time master Bruce became a teen, he'd become angry. Incredibly angry. He had contemplated killing the man who had murdered his parents.” 

The silence had hung thick in the air.

“We fought hard, in his teenage years. Master Bruce was constantly getting himself into fights, both in school and out of it, trying to hide his activities and aspirations from me. I have had to pick him up from different police stations on numerous occasions, but at least we've agreed on the ground rules by that time and had grown far more used to each other.” Cass jumped down from her perch and came to lean into Alfred's side, everyone really quiet. Not even the chirping of the bats disturbed the silence.

“Of course, at his core, Bruce still was very kind. Even back then he tried to stand up for the weak, even when he was lost himself. It's just, seeing him again, now, I wondered- Maybe, if I were to raise him a little bit differently, master Bruce wouldn't have become quite so tortured.”

Alfred gave them all a mirthless smile.

“I just wish he'd had someone like master Clark by his side. I never would have imagined young master Bruce opening this much to someone. But being with master Clark has been good for him in these trying times. Before I- I have never even really seen him smile, at this age. And I owe that to master Clark. I fear… I have neglected master Bruce yet again. But I'm no longer the Alfred that master Bruce knew. He does not trust me. For him… For him the wound of losing his parents is incredibly fresh. And I find myself without the direction to help him.”

When Alfred finished speaking, it was once again silent. It- Even though he had started it, it felt like it'd shaken Dick to his core. Eventually, he shook his head.

“We- You're not the only one at fault for this, Alfred. I really should have guessed, too, it's just-” He paused. 

It's just that he missed Bruce.

It's just that they all did, even though he was right there, on some level, none of them had really considered that this new version of him- That this was Bruce, too, and that maybe he needed them just as much as they needed him. Just like Clark probably needed his family. Dick let out a tired laugh, sensing what this had been leading to.

“I guess this is your way of telling us that you think we should let them both go visit the Kents.” 

Alfred's eyes crinkled.

“They have grown quite inseparable, haven't they.” He said. “And while I do understand all of you not wanting to leave your father out of your sight out of worry, this trip might be a better idea than what you might imagine. The Kents are quite lovely people, and I know it has been taxing on all of you, seeing master Bruce and master Clark like this.”

Dick smiled.

“Yeah. Yeah, I agree.”

Cass briefly hugged Alfred, the butler warmly patting her back. Damian still looked contrary, but he voiced no opinion.

“Miss Bruce.” Cass said, her voice quiet. “But Kents are nice. The farm is… peaceful.”

She had been on the fence about this before, but what Alfred told them really gave them all a lot to think about.

Tim's lips thinned.

“I still don't think it's a great idea.” He mumbled. For once, he and Damian felt the same on this matter, both being firm in the fact that the kids should stay in the Manor at the start of this discussion. “But… But I guess Kon will be there a lot, too, in case something happens.”

Steph looked away.

“It's your call.” She shrugged. “I’m ambivalent about this, anyway.

“Miss Stephanie.” Alfred's brows knitted. It had been apparent from the very start when she'd distanced herself that this situation had stirred some underlying feelings in her too. Even Dick was here more than her, while living in a totally different city, when she'd usually be all over the Manor. “You should know that your voice matters, too.”

Ever perceptive, Alfred looked at her for one long moment, before his eyes swept the room, focusing especially on Jason and Duke as well. “All of you are an important part of the family. You should know that is true to master Bruce and I, even if we seldom express it. As well as miss Gordon is, too, of course. Were he here with us, master Bruce would want to hear all of your input.”

Steph had noticeably lost some of her confidence, but she had smiled, Duke and Jason both looking away in the wake of this heartfelt sentiment.

Alfred's eyes softened.

“I would have hoped that none of you would doubt your part in this family.”

Dick smiled, remembering the isolation he himself had felt during the years him and Bruce weren't talking. He really should have thought this might be a problem for his official and unofficial siblings as well. He knew Timmy for sure had gone through quite a long period of not feeling like he belonged. Even Damian, as much as he'd never admit it, did, compensating for it with all that part talk of being the blood son.

“Alfred is right, you know.” He urged.

Steph shifted.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean- It felt a little better knowing all of you would keep an eye on him.” She admitted. “But I wasn't really here, so. It should be fine?”

Cass moved over to her, the girls smiling at each other as their shoulders brushed. Duke, put on the spot a little, too, rubbed at his arm.

“I’m… worried, too. But, well, I also trust Alfred's judgement. And Bruce… Him and Clark really seem pretty close. I don't think we should separate that.” Dick, unable to help himself, reached out to ruffle his hair, Duke quickly ducking out of it to the sound of his laughter. But he was smiling now, too.

Jason shrugged.

“Sure.”

He rolled his eyes at Tim's unimpressed stare.

“What? I think it's not that serious. In fact, Smallville is probably safer than Gotham.”

As all eyes turned to Damian, the boy scowled. He still seemed a little agitated, his crossed arms tense.

Eventually, he let out a little ‘tt’.

“Fine. I guess Pennyworth has made some interesting points. I still think this is a stupid idea, but I do have nothing against Martha and Jonathan Kent.”

Alfred's smile was incredibly warm, his eyes twinkling.

“Thank you, master Damian.”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

“Are you quite done packing, Master Clark?” Alfred asked kindly, Dick hovering in the doorway as the boy looked at his emptied guest room contemplatively, the contents of everything he owned in a bright blue kid-sized suitcase. 

“Hmm…” Clark took a long look around the room one more time, before raising his head with a bright smile. “I think so!”

Dick couldn't help but coo at him internally. His puppy eyes have definitely played a part in this whole decision. Ever since Kara stirred up the waters, Clark looked at everyone with such hopeful eyes, it was practically impossible not to cave, even when they'd be letting little Bruce out of their sight as well.

Just on the edge of his vision he could see Cass also popping her head out of Bruce's room, two thumbs indicating they were done with packing as well, her and the boy emerging with their own suitcase soon after.

It wasn't long before they were heading into the Cave, where the rest of the family waited next to the Batwing, Cass and Dick easily taking down the packed suitcases as Alfred and both of the boys followed silently, two sets of curious eyes taking in the everything the Batcave had to offer now that they were allowed down here once more.

Although, when they were just passing through the tunnel leading to the hanger some bats in the distance screeched, and Dick couldn't help noticing the way Bruce jerked, before tentatively latching onto the hem of Clark's shirt, the boy turning to him in surprise before smiling reassuringly, just that simple act easing Bruce's nerves. It was really a baffling thing, seeing Bruce back when he was still afraid of bats, Dick and Cass exchanging a little look.

The suitcase made a soft thump upon being placed down in front of the bigger version of the Batwing, one Bruce usually reserved for transporting all of his kids or, if the need arose, his  justice league colleagues. Dick and Cass went to place the luggage inside with quick efficiency before rejoining the group, little Batman and Superman gaping at the sleek black plane, surrounded by the rest of the family.

Dick smiled at Jason, conveying a silent ‘glad you showed up again’, the other just rolling his eyes at him to be contrarian. Babs and Kara were here too, being busy catching up just before the kids had arrived, Conner opting to wait for them at the farm.

“Well,” Duke started by coughing awkwardly, his smile just a little uneasy as he looked down at the kids. “See you guys in a few.”

Cass was the next one to sign a ‘see you later.’ Before saying it out loud, with her eyes softening as she looked from Clark and to Bruce. “See you.”

Right next to her, Steph just waved, her smile wide, and Jason nodded, his eyes trained on Bruce and arms crossed. It wasn't a particularly happy sending off party, even if they would probably see each other in just a week or two, at most.

Damian simply scowled further.

Tim smiled tiredly, before offering a “Stay safe.”

“Bye, you two.” Barbara offered, Kara’s already beaming smile widening.

Alfred's eyes shone as he looked at the kids. After a moment, he knelt on one knee, looking at the two boys. “Just like Master Timothy said, do take care, Master Bruce, Master Clark. I wish you a safe journey.”

Bruce glanced at him, briefly, his brows furrowing for a moment, before looking away, Clark easing the atmosphere with his genuine smile.

“And tell Mister and Missis Kent that we sent our regards.” Alfred added, although it seemed like it was mostly addressed to Dick.

“We will! Thank you, Mister Pennyworth, and- and thank you everyone for what you did for us.” Clark said, Bruce letting out a polite little “Thank you” of his own.

Dick stepped from one foot to another.

It was decided that he was going to be the one to fly them over to Kansas, along with Kara, so there was no need for him to say his own goodbyes just yet.

“Well.” He said, smiling at the rest of his family. “We should get going.”

He turned to Kara, but at that exact moment, Damian had suddenly stepped forward, the only one having technically not said his goodbyes, Dick stilling as he watched the boy suddenly capture little Bruce into a tight hug.

Just as soon as it happened, Damian was already pulling away quickly, holding a stunned looking Bruce by the shoulders.

“You better be careful.” He said, scowling furiously before letting him go and turning his stormy gaze onto Clark. Clark looked as surprised, but he quickly smiled at Damian, making his brow twitch.

“I'm trusting you to look after fa- to look after him, Kent.” Damian said, and after blinking a few times, Clark suddenly looked really determined, before taking Bruce's hand in his and saying:

“I will!”

Bruce just looked lost, and still a little baffled, even as he unconsciously swayed towards Clark, Damian huffing before making a hurried, slightly flustered exit, Clark calling after him with a ‘bye!’

Dick's own jaw, just like a few of his other siblings’, was on the floor. Alfred, the only one who didn't seem even a little surprised by what happened just looked truly touched as he watched Damian's retreating back.

“Well, shi-” Jason said outloud before cutting himself off, not to get reprimanded by Alfred, his exclamation making the rest of the people snap out of it, everyone looking in different directions as Bruce hurriedly tugged Clark towards the plane. Clark just looked happy and content as he waved at everyone while they boarded, Kara stepping in first and Dick making it in last, strapping the kids into the chairs while the kryptonian woman sat down in the opposite row.

“You know, I could have easily just-”

“Kara.” Dick warned, reminding her of what they talked about in regards to powers and glancing at her sternly. He wasn't sure how Bruce and Clark would react, none of them were sure how much they could reveal, still and how this cursed magic worked. For all they knew, telling them of the future might make it permanent.

Kara just blew a lock out of her face. She clearly wasn't as worried about all the possibilities.

Clark blinked at her.

“Are you- Are you not wearing a seatbelt?..” He asked, worriedly, and Kara froze, for a second, before visibly giving up in the face of his worried puppy eyes and strapping herself in.

Dick sent her a smirk as he walked over to the pilot seat, ignoring the pointed look she sent his way.

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The feeling of flying was like nothing else Clark had ever felt. His heart was leaping in his chest at the speed, the clouds visible through the large windows next to the pilot seat. It was incredible, and he couldn't stop himself from pointing excitedly at them, trying to show what he was seeing to Bruce, even if their seats didn't allow for the best view. For some reason this whole thing just felt right, and he found himself smiling at Kara too, something like understanding twinkling in her eyes. At some point during their flight Dick even gave them the all clear to walk around and look at the windows and the cool control panel, Kara lifting Clark in her arms so he could see better, an endless stretch of clouds looking just so perfect and pillow-y. Bruce had refused to be lifted, embarrassed at the sheer idea, but his eyes still shone really bright when he looked out the windows, Clark’s excited laughs ringing in the air like wind chimes. 

It was still early morning when they'd made their way over to the Kent farm, sleek black jet landing quietly in a field not too far from a small three storied house and barn, Clark practically running out of it as soon as he'd been able.

The stretching, flat fields of his home and the forest at the very edges of it looked like they’ve always had, bathed in the morning light, peaceful and green, Clark's childhood house and the old, bright red barn bringing a few tears to his eyes, the boy's lip trembling.

Home.

A slightly cool hand touched his shoulder, and Clark turned to see Bruce, the boy's dark brows creased in concern at whatever expression Clark must have been making, and Clark smiled and shook his head. He was alright . He could see Bruce's eyes roam the landscape around them too, careful yet inquisitive, Dick coming up to them after a moment, rolling his eyes while Kara stuck out her tongue at him, both of the boys’ travel bags thrown nonchalantly over her shoulder.

“You're so strong!” Clark couldn't help but exclaim, the girls' smile widening a little when she turned to him.

Kara laughed.

“Oh you have no idea.”

“Come on, now.” Dick said, smiling at the kids too and ushering them to move. “Kon along with Mister and Missis Kent must be waiting.”

The way over to the house was pretty short, two figures rushing out of it as soon as they made it halfway, probably noticing the black plane from the window.

And the closer and closer they got, Clark could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, Ma and Pa’s familiar figures making his breath hitch, the boy having to stop physically just before he could reach them, too overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion.

Bruce was right. Things have definitely changed.

Ma and Pa both looked older, and a little shorter since Clark had last seen them. Both of their hair had a lot of grey in it, laugh lines hiding in the corners of Ma’s eyes and cheeks, Pa’s stern forehead wrinkles so much more prominent. And Clark just stared. Stared, as Ma took a step forward, looking at him as if she was seeing something new in him too, bringing her lightly trembling hands towards her mouth, as Pa squinted his eyes, and it was always a little hard for Pa to see, and for some reason that familiar gesture was what finally made Clark let out a sniffle.

Ma’s eyes were shining as she breathed out a soft: “Oh, Clark, honey.”

And suddenly, Clark couldn't take it.

He took a wobbly step forward, big tears already starting to make his eyelashes clumpy. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out, and then he was dashing; running these last few feet as fast as he could before barrelling straight into Ma’s skirts, full on sobbing now, clinging to her with all of the desperation he'd felt, Martha letting out a breathy little sob of her own as she reached down and petted his hair gently, like she always did when he cried. And Ma’s clothes still smelled familiar, Pa’s hand reaching out to grasp at Clark's shoulder before bringing all three of them into a big, crushing hug.

Clark was crying. He was crying and laughing with joy as Pa lifted him into his arms, both his parents' eyes misty, matching smiles on their faces and Clark was finally home.

Pa spun him in the air, grunting with effort, Ma dabbing delicately at the edges of her eyes.

“There's our boy!” Jonathan crooned, Martha letting out a joyous sound and Clark giggling, still staring lovingly at his parents and wiping at his wet face.

“Oh you look so small again, little star.” Martha cooed, smoothing his curly hair down and placing a wet kiss on his forehead. For a few more moments, the Kents all just looked at each other, taking in all their different appearances, happy to be reunited regardless.

“It's so nice being able to lift you again, son.” Jonathan said, Martha holding Clark's face in her hands gently, just looking at their little treasure. But, eventually, they still had to acknowledge their guests, Jonathan lowering Clark to the ground when they boy had gotten a little too squirmy with another grunt of effort.

Kara and Dick were smiling where they'd stopped to watch this family reunion, Bruce standing awkwardly just beside them, a far away look in his eyes making Clark slightly worried.

“Hello there! It's so nice to see you here, Dick.” Martha said, mirth in her eyes as she took in all of their guests and laid a gentle hand on Clark's shoulder before turning to Dick. “Jonathan and I wanted to thank you and your family for looking after our boy.”

“Oh, it was really no problem.”  Dick beamed. “It's lovely to see you again, Mister and Missis Kent.”

At the same time, Kara had stepped forward to give Martha and Jonathan a one sided hug as she'd still been carrying all the kids' baggage.

“Hi Ma, hi Pa!” She said, receiving a “Hi, sweetie.” from Ma and a warm grunt from Pa.

Bruce’s expression turned utterly terrified when the imploring gaze of Clark's parents had finally landed on him, the boy desperate enough to send a glance over to Dick who was simply smiling at him with encouragement. He did not try to hide behind him, but it was a close thing, the boy visibly steeling himself.

“Hello, Mister and Missis Kent. It's- It's nice to meet you.” He stumbled over his words, a little, Ma’s eyes softening as she took his little frame in.

“Oh, aren't you a dearie? It's nice to meet you too, Bruce.” She said, before suddenly throwing her arms up in the air. “What are we doing still standing around on the porch? Come, come everyone, you must be starving.”

And with that, everyone was promptly ushered inside the small Kent home, Kara quickly darting upstairs with a shout that she was going to put down their baggage and Ma already puttering about the kitchen while Pa showed their guests to the table.

Bruce looked entirely too overwhelmed by everything as Clark had soaked up the sight of his childhood home, not as much changing as he had feared. Clark could see both Ma and Pa watching him with adoration as they chatted with Dick, Kara coming back in no time and people taking their seats in the kitchen.

Bruce was awkwardly trailing after Clark, Clark patting a chair next to the one he usually took, pushing his own chair a lot closer and smiling at the other boy.

“I hope we're not imposing too much with this.” Dick was saying with a vague gesture. “Oh, and Alfred sent his regards. Although he said that he's yet to try that cleaning trick you recommended." 

“Nonsense, nonsense, you could never impose.” Martha tutted. “You know you all are always welcome here,  and- oh- Kara, won't you be a dear and pass me that plate-”

“On it, Ma.” Kara smiled as she easily passed over the dish before grabbing another to help set the table. Clark wanted to help Ma too, but she already shooed him away with a fond little smile, saying that it's been far too long since they had seen him and she had enough help already. Pa placed down the big jug of juice.

In practically no time, the table was set, everyone sitting down for an early lunch, Ma practically cooking an entire feast for the occasion. At the very first bite of his casserole Clark's eyes grew a little watery again, but the concerned look Bruce sent his way made Clark smile, beyond happy that the other boy was here with him. His heart warmed every time Bruce was worried, even though the boy himself was beyond nervous about this whole thing.

Ma fretted a little over all of their guests being much too thin before proceeding to pile food onto Clark and Bruce’s plates, Clark bouncing happily on his chair and Bruce just looking too overwhelmed to even try to protest. Conversation flowed easily, mostly Kara and Dick doing the talking, Conner apparently being gone for some emergency, but before long, all the attention was turned back to Bruce and Clark.

“So, Bruce, do you really not mind staying here with us for a while?” Ma asked, with a gentle concern.

Bruce floundered a little, thrown by being addressed directly.

“I-If it's okay with you..?” He said, sounding a little unsure and looking towards his still full plate.

“Oh, honey.” Ma said. “Of course it's okay. Alfred tells me you and Clark have grown pretty close, and you must know we're always happy to have you at the farm.”

“Th-thank you, Missis Kent.” Bruce stammered.

The sincerity and gentleness of her words seemed to throw the boy for a loop, and Clark thought that this was as good a time as any. He took Bruce's hand in his own, waiting until he'd caught his attention and giving the hand a reassuring squeeze. Bruce’s tense shoulders had visibly relaxed a little as soon as Clark had taken his hand.

Clark turned to his parents with a determined glint in his eyes.

“Actually, Ma, Pa, there's something important I wanted to tell you.” He said. Clark could feel his own nerves picking up, but he was practically vibrating with the need to tell the news to his parents, Bruce adorably flushing beside him.

“Bruce and I are going to get married!” Clark announced, stunning the whole table into silence.

Ma had just blinked at him, with surprise, Dick's jaw falling open, a sound of his fork clattering to the floor loud in the suddenly silent kitchen. Kara didn't look to be fairing much better, Pa’s brows rising to his hairline and making Clark nervously shift in his chair. He could feel Bruce's grip getting tighter, but his parents were already exchanging some sort of silent looks, for some reason exchanging a lot of pointed eyebrow gestures, Ma finally turning to the two nervous boys with a smile.

“Well, that's just wonderful news, sweetie.” She coughed, and Clark beamed, looking immediately towards Bruce who only threw a nervous little glance at Pa Kent.

Pa just nodded.

“Well, the two of you have our blessings, then.” He said, unbothered, before adding sternly, “But you'd have to grow up for that first.”

And Clark was so happy. He could practically not sit in one place he felt so happy, giggling with joy and swinging his and Bruce's hands under the table. The little smile Bruce sent his way was really pretty, too; both of them blushing and looking away from each other, hearts beating fast. Dick made a strange wheezing noise where he sat at that, making Clark throw a curious look towards him.

“Ohmygodthisissogood-” Kara said in one breath, a wide smile slowly spreading on her lips. The sight of if made some foreboding chill run down Clark's back, the boy blinking at her in confusion.

“Are you- What-” Dick still looked and sounded shell shocked.

“You did a proper proposal and everything, right?” Kara interjected, practically shoving a hand into his face to stop him from talking, tone mock serious. Dick sputtered. Still very much ignoring him, Kara leaned her weight on the table. “Because you know, doing it properly is very important.”

Clark stumbled, suddenly unsure of himself.

“I, uh…I-”

“Kara Zor-El!” Martha chided, stern. “Stop teasing them. Look, you almost made Clark cry.”

And indeed, Clark had gotten incredibly anxious over not doing the proposal the right way, his big watery eyes turning onto Bruce, who simply squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“Clark, honey, don't worry about what Kara said. There is no one wrong way to propose if you're doing it from the heart.” Ma said, making the boy brighten slightly.

“Oh, don't worry, Clark, I, the best wedding planner and cousin ever, will help you do things properly for your actual wedding.” Kara waggled her finger, grinning.

“Really?” Clark immediately perked up, both of the boys now looking at her with hopeful blue eyes.

“Now, hold on a minute-” Dick finally said, offended enough to snap out of his stupor. “If anyone would be their wedding planner, it would be me. I was there first they practically ra- What I mean is I was there first!”

Kara just rolled her eyes at Dick, “Well, I already called dibs, so-o.” The two quickly devolved into light-hearted bickering about their skills in flower arrangements, up until a tired, and slightly dirty looking Kon walked though the door.

“Hi Ma, hi Pa.” The boy said, wiping some soot off his cheek.” Oh, hi, Clark, hi Bruce, I see you're here already. What's this about?”

He nodded vaguely towards the still bickering pair of young adults, Kara and Dick's argument growing more and more heated.

“Oh, Clark and Bruce are getting married.” Ma said, dreamily clasping her hands close to her chest and making both of the kids blush with a look.

“Ah, okay.” Conner said, walking a little further into the kitchen, before halting in his tracks. “Wait, they what-”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

Bruce shifted awkwardly under Richard’s stare, the two of them standing near the entryway into the Kent house.

After all of the dinner’s excitement it finally came time for him to go, some message arriving from his job that required his immediate attention.

Dick let out a sigh. He'd already said his goodbyes to Mister and Missis Kent, along with Conner and Kara, Clark's parents standing right by the kids' side, and the other two slinking off somewhere.

Eventually, Richard couched down, trying to look Bruce in the eyes.

“Hey, B.” Dick said, suddenly looking exhausted. It made Bruce's brows furrow in concern, but he didn't say anything. It… It felt vaguely familiar.

“Will you really be alright here for a bit? Even if it's far from the Manor?” Dick asked. It was a loaded question. Enough so that Bruce let himself think for a moment, before nodding.

He still felt like he should be careful about the young adult, but the expression that flickered on Dick's face made Bruce want to reach out, hand twitching by his side, but never rising. Dick sighed again, before smiling in his usual cheerful way and standing up.

“Just, stay safe, okay? And listen to Mister and Missis Kent.” He put his hands on his hips for emphasis.

Bruce blinked at him.

“Okay.”

“We'll take good care of him, don't you worry.” Martha Kent promised, and Dick's smile widened, becoming more sincere as he looked at her.

“You have my thanks for that. And Clark?” Dick turned towards the boy. “You stay safe too, okay? And keep an eye on each other.”

The boys exchanged a short look, Clark linking their hands again with a smile.

“We will.” He said, seriously, Dick's expression doing something funny at that.

Then, Dick shook his head.

“Litterally no one is gonna believe me.”

And with that cryptic mutter and wave of his hand, Dick had been out the door, the boys standing there a moment longer before Kara poked her head out of the kitchen, munching on some leftover pie.

“Fo, you gufs want hefp unphaking?” She asked, mouth full and prompting some light scolding from Martha Kent, the young woman just smiling wider and ducking back into the kitchen.

Their new rooms had turned out to be pretty small, just like the rest of the house, Bruce being placed in the guest bedroom with the larger bed and Clark taking what seemed to be the couch in his mother's sewing room, some of his toys already laid out on the table next to the small couch, Clark beaming excitedly at Bruce as he showed him his things.  They definitely looked like they were old, even if well taken care of. And, apparently, Clark's old room was now taken by Conner, the teen apologizing for that awkwardly, but Clark said that he didn't really mind, even if Bruce really felt like he should.

“You boys sure you don't need any help?” Martha Kent asked, peeking into the guest room, Bruce stiffening where he'd been trying to fit his things in a closet. Clark was here too, done with his own unpacking already and content to just keep Bruce company.

“N-no, thank you, Missis Kent.” Bruce said, embarrassed at the things that were strewn all over the bed. Without Alfred the boy may have been struggling just a little, unsure where things went and admittedly feeling uneasy and uncomfortable in this new environment, a pang going through his chest at the thought. He didn't want to think about Alfred or the Manor right now.

Clark just shook his head no, smiling widely at his mother from where he was sitting with his legs on the chair.

“If you're both sure.” Martha Kent sniffed, but she didn't sound offended, immediately smiling after, eyes sweeping the room until they landed onto a dinosaur toy Bruce carefully placed on the nightstand.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, both a little surprised and delighted, Bruce's back stiffening further as soon as she'd caught her gaze, the boy hiding a little behind the door of the closet. “What a cute little dinosaur! Does it have a name?”

Clark's eyes widened, as if the boy hadn't thought of that, mortification choking Bruce's throat. It just- The thing was gifted to him by Clark, and he- He thought it kind of resembled the other boy, what with how cute it was so-

But it was so- It was so childish, that he- And- And he didn't want to lie to Martha Kent, and even Clark seemed excited now, two pairs of eyes looking at him as he awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot, gripping onto the closet door.

“It's…”

Bruce mumbled, feeling his cheeks growing hotter.

“It's Clark.” 

Clark's eyes went really round. Martha seemed surprised too, her mouth forming a silent ‘o’.

Bruce was truly mortified now.

“It's just- It's just that Clark gave it to me, and…” He was practically rambling in his panic, but Martha cut him off gently:

“Oh, it's okay, Bruce, honey, you don't need to explain it.”

Bruce sent a worried glance towards Clark, and the other boy was nodding frantically, pretty blue eyes shining.

“I think it's very cute.” Clark blurted, making Bruce’s face colour for a different reason, before jumping off his chair in a hurry. “I’ll be right back!”

And with that, Clark was gone, slipping from the room in an instant. It wasn't long at all before he'd come back, though, holding his own allosaurus that Dick bought for him in his arms, cheeks slightly rosy from both embarrassment and how fast he'd ran.

“His- His name is Bruce, now.” He announced. His eyes flitted over to Bruce. “So they could- So Clark wouldn't be lonely.”

Both of the boys just stared at each other for one long moment, hearts beating fast.

Bruce averted his eyes.

“I- I like it.” He admitted, Clark beaming at him happily. “They should… they should probably- be placed together, then.”

Still incredibly red faced, Clark put his own dino onto the nightstand as well, neither noticing Martha's starry eyes. It wasn't until she'd moved out of the room quietly that her voice had snapped both of the boys out of it.

“Don't forget to later come down for dinner.” Martha called from the corridor, already walking away.

“Oh- okay, Ma!” Clark called after her retreating back, looking at the two plushies. Bruce returned to his work, neither looking at each other, up until Clark had suddenly asked:

“Do you want me to show you around the farm?”

____─ ·𖤓☾· ─____

The tour of the house passed by very quickly, it being much smaller than the Manor and all, Bruce trailing after Clark carefully the whole way. Clark kept on listing different rooms and explaining where everything was at, where they were allowed and where they probably shouldn't go and what not to do, like wasting a lot of hot water. Bruce was just quietly listening and absorbing all the new information, happy to see Clark so happy.

“And this is the barn!” Clark pointed, the two making their way inside, Bruce marvelling at the sheer amount of hay and wrinkling his nose at the strong smell of animals. Clark said they would probably need to be with his father to interact with any, but still, Clark just confidently made his way across to a ladder, turning and smiling at Bruce when he'd gotten up a few steps.

In no time, both of the boys were now up in the attic, or, at least, what felt like the attic, a small bookshelf stacked with books and a plain mattress lying on the floor, covered with a few colorful blankets and pillows, the only lightsource Bruce could see being a small window facing the vast fields.

“And this is my favorite spot!” Clark confessed, plopping down on the mattes and patting the space next to him, eyes shining. “It's usually really quiet, so I thought you'd enjoy it.”

It was a nice space. Bruce would imagine how much time Clark had spent here, as he laid down on the mattress next to Clark, the boys looking up at the low ceiling.

“Do you like it?” Clark asked, looking towards the other boy.

Bruce turned to him too, humming quietly in response.

“I like it.” He said, content to lay right beside him.

The sun had already set outside by the time the boys made it out of the loft, Pa Kent calling them back to house for dinner. 

Bruce felt as if his breath had been taken away. Above them, there was nothing but stars, shining in the endless black of the cosmos, so bright and so pretty, their glow lighting up the whole sky. He stopped, unable to tear his gaze away.

Bruce had seen stars before. He'd seen them when he was out late with his parents on some sort of holiday, but nothing could truly compare to this, to this endless brilliant expanse, unobstructed by any city lights or clouds. Gotham did not have a sky like this, and he turned, in his excitement, to the other boy, unable to express his own overflowing feelings.

Clark was looking at him.

Clark was looking at him with his inexplicably blue eyes, that looked almost as if they were glowing and Bruce felt his heart speed up again. 

In the distance, cicadas were screaming.