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Bruce had gotten hurt, again. And Clark, had followed him home, again. They were on patrol, just the two of them that night. Neither one of them wanted to admit it was just because they missed each other, Bruce because of his pride and secrecy and Clark because of his slight awkwardness around Bruce. He still had that butterflies-in-your stomach feeling around Bruce. Like he was a little kid with a crush again, but he couldn't help it. It was a simple patrol, no appearances of named villains, no Joker torturing a friend or Riddler playing games with him just simple criminals. They were on the trail of a few guys Bruce had identified as being the perpetrators of a woman's killing a few days ago. They weren't anyone particularly harmful but Bruce had gotten himself tangled up with an especially strong guy, usually he could take anybody but this guy seemed to be throwing him this night. He was getting a lead on him though, when suddenly the guy seemed to have gained all his power back and threw Bruce against the wall of the alley the were in. Clark heard the awful sound of Bruce's head slamming against the wall and quickly finished the guy he was engaged with. He plowed through the guy Bruce had been fighting and knelt down. He suddenly felt guilty for not helping Bruce but he said he didn't need help. He quickly scanned Bruce and found just a concussion. Thank God, he thought, he'd gotten through much, much worse. He brought his hand to Bruce's cheek and swiped his thumb across it a few times. It was futile with the presence of the cowl but it made Clark feel better nonetheless.
"B? You there?" He spoke. Bruce shook his head slightly, waking up from his haze.
"Hey Clark," Bruce slurred back. Clark huffed a laugh, he could tell Bruce was dazed pretty badly when he didn't stick to his code names he insisted they use when they weren't alone.
"Lets get you home, Bruce" Clark teased back and picked him up, Bruce's head leaned into his chest as he held him. He slipped into a brisk sleep as Clark flew him home.
Unfortunately, when they arrived at the Cave Bruce was seemingly back to his self. He immediately tried to go back on patrol. After Clark refused to let him go, he reluctantly plopped down at his computer.
"Bruce, you really should be resting, that was a rough hit you took back there" Clark said to him, leaning against his desk.
"I'm fine Clark, it was a little bump, I'll be alright," Bruce said. Clark observed his computer screen and realized Bruce was repeatedly typing gibberish into his database.
"Bruce, what are you doing?" Clark asked, wondering if Bruce had learned another language in his free time or if his eyes had been tricking him.
"I just- I can't seem to find the letters," Bruce said, becoming increasingly irritated as he failed at forming a coherent word.
"I think that little bump messed you up more than you think," Clark said.
"No, I'm fine, I just need some coffee," Bruce said, finally lifting his cowl off and placing it on the desk, barely on the desk however, as it fell to the ground less then a second later, making Bruce groan and push his palm to his head. He began scooping the coffee into the coffeemaker, apparently forgoing the coffee filter and began to count his scoops.
"One...two...," he paused for a minute, like he really couldn't remember what came after that. "Four." He concluded and slammed the top close to start the brewing.
"Bruce," Clark said, stifling a laugh and walking over to him. "That was a good try, I think you should go lay down now."
"A good try? Clark come on, you're critiquing my coffee making skills now?" He questioned, he glanced down at the coffee machine and saw the chunky sludge struggling through the machine. Bruce sighed and nodded his head. Walking towards the exit to the cave in search of his bed. Clark clicked the coffee machine off and followed behind Bruce, ensuring he didn't get lost in his confused state.
They stood together in Bruce's room, Clark carefully stripping Bruce of his armor. And, lecturing him.
"If I had let you back out imagine where you'd be right now. Trying to fight a lamppost or scale a building in search of a shadow," Clark spat out at him, "or if you were alone tonight, what would you have done? Fell to those criminals?" Bruce sighed and Clark sat the last piece of armor on the pile. "You have to take better care of yourself, despite what you think you're not indestructible." He said, his voice becoming softer and more vulnerable as he rested his hand on Bruce's cheek. He nodded and cupped Clark's hand in his. He closed the gap between them in a gentle kiss, hardly a kiss rather than a brush of lips.
"I'm sorry," Bruce finally spoke.
"I know you are, be careful, not sorry" Clark said. "I don't know what I would do without you," he says, accidentally revealing how much he thinks about it. How much he thinks about when he'll get that call, from Alfred or Diana or Dick, that he got hurt again and couldn't make it out this time. He took a hit he couldn't counter, or one too many shots penetrated his armor. He feels himself getting worked up, he closes his eyes and turns away for a moment trying to regain his composure.
"Hey" Bruce said, turning Clark's head back to his. "Careful." He said, like a promise.
- - -
The next patrol they had together Clark realized Bruce's cowl had been upgraded. He had a harder outer part added along with a type of liner to absorb the energy. Clark smiled, maybe he wasn't being more careful but at least he had made an effort.