Chapter Text
It was a brutal mission for the Justice League. Luthor had managed to join forces with a European scientist who didn't care much for ethics or, you know, basic human decency. Clark had received an anonymous tip about this operation a couple days ago and contacted the League for fear it might be a trap.
They kind of expected what ended up happening. Even so, the heroes sweated to dismantle the operation, which was still in its early stages but proved to be extremely dangerous.
They had robots.
Robots armed with A hellish combination of kryptonite and fear gas, because one toxic substance isn't enough.
Clark just wanted to go home.
He was bleeding; they all were. By sheer luck, the scientists hadn't managed to get the mixture to work properly, and only the kryptonite was "activated." So he was the one who was most injured, especially after he jumped in front of Diana to take a laser shot when she had her back turned.
Ah yes, the lasers.
Lex is so extra.
"Superman!" Diana jumped to his side after the fight was over. "Are you okay?" She checked the wound that was still open on his shoulder.
“Yeah, I'm fine.” Trying to downplay the situation, he forgot about the injury and lifted the wrong shoulder, wincing with the pain.
"You're an idiot."
“Geez, you're welcome.”Diana rolled her eyes “How’s everyone?” Clark asked
“We’re fine, I think you got the worst of it.”
“Effing kryptonite” Clark got up slowly, using Diana’s arms for support.
The woman snorted “Effing? Really?”
“Superman.” Another voice called behind him and he really didn’t need to look to see that was Batman. “You should let me see the damage.”
“I’m okay. There’s no need.” Because there wasn’t, really. It was morning now, probably, so he could just sunbathe. For like forty minutes, so that he could go back to at least sixty percent of his normal but still.
“Just come to the batwing.” Bruce deadpanned
“Oh, no, no no.” The kryptonian denied quickly. “It’s fine, really. I can probably still fly.”
“Probably?” Bruce scoffed
Just out of spite, Clark hovered a few inches in the air.
Bruce hummed and turned around.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing. What are you talking about?” Yeah, he panicked. Sue him.
“You’re avoiding him like kryptonite.”
“What? No I’m not!”
She raised a eyebrow, and Clark just shut his mouth and turned around.
“Really subtle, Superman” he heard her talking under her breath but ignored.
There wasn't much cleaning to be done that couldn't be left to the police, but Bruce insisted in taking all of the weird Fear toxin-Kryptonite mix to the Watchtower, and as usual, no one disagreed.
“The substance will be safer where we can all see.” He stated, mostly looking at Clark.
Trust me, his body language said.
I trust you. I just can’t forgive yet, the kryptonian wanted to scream, but he just looked the other way.
It turns out that the last time Clark visited the Batcave, he found Bruce in the middle of an experiment with the damned green stone. And in various physical states as well.
"It's really not what it looks like," he explained while trying to hide everything in a secret compartment at the back of the cave. At least he seemed to feel guilty about the horrible reaction it caused in his friend.
“How long?” Clark whispered from the ground, trying to stay up and hating the way his voice broke throughout the sentence.
“I-“
“Don’t lie. How long?”
“We started stumbling upon kryptonite at least once every ten missions.” Bruce approached Clark, helping him to his feet. “I thought that... Perhaps there could be something different about them."
“So you...”
"I am studying them, yes."
“And you didn't think to tell me?”
“I-“ Clark let go of Bruce now that he could exist without feeling like dying
“You... You know that this is something I fear. And still...”
“It’s not like you don’t get attacked with kryptonite in daily basis.” Bruce deadpanned.
“I don’t fear the stone or the gas or whatever physical state they have. It’s this I don’t like.” He looked around “The possibility that someone I trust will use it against me.”
“Why is this such a shock? The entire Justice League knows that I have contingence plans...”
“Why the fuck would you need that much? Plus the ones at the Watchtower!” he snapped.
“I don’t. I just keep it.”, there is a pause and then he continues “I don’t keep kryptonite in the tower. I bring them back here.”
What the fuck?
“Oh, just in case?” Clark couldn’t believe it.
“You’re being sarcastic”
“And you’re acting like Lex fucking Luthor.”
This seemed to be the thing that brought weight to both of them.
“I’m leaving.” Clark said, turning around.
“Wait, you’re not well enough...”
“You don’t decide that.”
And then they hadn’t seen each other since. It was a month ago. Bruce tried calling, texting through their League communicator, but Clark didn’t answered.
He even switched his monitor duty days and was now taking turns with the others, so they could have nights off.
Everyone was happy and he didn't need to have any complicated conversations for the time being.
He was not taking the easy way out.
He was definitely not.
“I think we’re done here!” Flash shouted “Let the cops handle the rest.”
“Good job today, guys. Thank you for the help.” Clark smiled, his heart really not into it.
“Fuck, man, you look like shit.”
“I feel like it!” he said, smiling. “But I’ll be fine. I'll call if I need help the next time Lex gets out of prison, which should be somewhere between two days and a week.”
“Holy sarcasm.” Flash whistled. “Sure you fine?”
“Yeah. I’ll just be under the sun for a while.” He stated leaving the place “You can head back. Thanks again!”
He left the warehouse where the clandestine laboratory operated and confirmed that it was already morning. Clark somehow managed to climb onto the roof of a nearby building and sit down, feeling the familiar warmth of the morning sun on his skin.
He was already feeling better. And the moment of silence was rare.
“You are a stubborn man.”
Again, he didn’t need to turn to see who sat down besides him.
“You’re one to talk”
“Hm.”
Bruce was obviously waiting for Clark to start a conversation. It makes sense because they've functioned this way since they started working together, but Clark simply doesn't say anything this time.
“Are... Are we okay?” B asked a few minutes of silence later.
The kryptonian hummed.
“I don’t know.”
“Fair enough.”
And that was that.
They sat together, and Clark didn’t start conversation, but Bruce also didn’t left.
Slowly, Clark began to feel himself returning to his own body. His sense of smell and sight are always the first to return. He could see through things again, and he smelled the aroma of warm bread from a bakery on the other side of town.
Minutes later his shoulder stopped hurting, and when he turned his head to examine the wound, there was nothing there.
“Guess it was not that bad” Bruce commented
“Told you I was fine.” Clark would say, if that damn super hearing hadn't chosen this exact moment to return in full force.
He heard everything, everywhere, all at once™ and It was always such a pain in his ass.
The other powers he could control quickly, but somehow his hearing was overwhelming everytime. It took him like ten minutes to breathe through the explosion and focus in any random sound he could pick up.
He concentrated in a distant sound, a feminine shrill, angry voice with a British accent
"You burned the eggs again! Now your uncle will go to work without eating because of this mess you made!"
A slap.
“I’m so sorry, Aunt Petunia, I can do it again” Clark felt his chest ache when he heard the voice of a little boy, not much older than nine, answering the woman.
“And what about wasting food, huh? You ungrateful brat.”
He wanted to stop listening, he should stop listening, but he felt like he was stuck there.
“Count yourself lucky I’m not sending Vernon on you yet. Now go back to your cupboard, freak.”
A shuffle, and a small door opening, then closing.
The last thing he heard was the boy’s quiet sobs almost not echoing in a room that sounded so small.
Clark gasped, coming back to himself fully.
“What happened?” B asked, immediately.
“Oh, Rao” he felt his cheek damp, and wiped away the tears.
“What is it, Kal?” Bruce’s steady and worried voice calmed him, despite everything.
“Give me a moment.” He asked, trying to control his breathing.
What could he do about It? He surely couldn’t just take the boy without involving authorites. Or sending the kid to someplace worse.
He needed to think carefully.
“I-I just heard something awful.” he murmured. “I-Usually when I have a momentary power loss or weakening my senses come back slowly, but...”
“The hearing is tricky, yes.”
“Sometimes I focus on listening to Ma ou Pa going about their day or a close and steady heartbeat to ground myself.”
“Okay.”
“This time was different, I-I heard a woman’s scream.”
“Does she need help?”
“No. She was yelling at a kid, really young kid, because he had burned the food he was making and...”
“And?” B prodded.
“She slapped the boy. Hard. And then... Then she said ‘go back to your cupboard.” Clark was almost growling by the end of the sentence.
“Cupboard?”
“Yes. Like a parent says “go to your room” but...”
“A cupboard.”
Clark nodded.
“What do you want to do?”
“I... I should probably tell the authorities.”
“And send him to an orphanage?”
“I know.”
“I don't think there's anything we can do for now. Go home, rest, and meet me in a few days so we can talk.”
“M’kay. But I don’t like It.” He felt Bruce’s hand on his now good shoulder before the other man spoke again.
“I know. But we need to be smart about this."
“You’re right.” Clark sighed “I’ll go home.”
“Good. Do you want a ride?”
“I’m all good, thanks.”
Bruce nodded before leaving him alone with his own thoughts. He couldn’t help but search for the kid again.
There was nothing more than the little sobs Clark already knew, and muffled voices. He focused on those.
“Thank you for breakfast, honey” a man said before saying his goodbyes to his wife and son.
Said son then started talking.
“Is... Is Harry not eating again?”
“Yes, he burned the eggs and I had to make it again.”
“But... He also didn't eat anything all day yesterday.”
“And it serves him right, Dudders. That freak is useless.”
“Okay.”
And the conversation shifted to 'what movie do you want to see at the cinema today, my dear?'
Clark’s blood was boiling and he reached blindly to his communicator device, opening his private chat with Bruce.
He typed a quick they’re starving him. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Surprisingly, Bruce immediately replied with an 'Okay'.
So Clark went home, thinking about the little boy and the burned eggs and the goddamn cupboard.
He would do everything he could to ensure Harry's safety.
In this line of work, he had to learn over the years that it was impossible to save everyone and, however painful it was, to leave certain people behind.
Not this time.
Bruce arrived at the manor shortly before lunchtime, he took his time removing his armor and storing the kryptonite in its hiding place. Then came the shower and changing clothes.
All this time, he went over the mission in his head; Clark contacting him after a month, and the pang of disappointment that crept into his chest when he realized it wasn't a private message to resolve things between them, but a general plea for help regarding a possible ambush.
And the battle, quick and brutal, even though their opponents were unprepared. Clark jumped to protect Diana and she immediately went to check if he was alright.
Clark using Diana as leverage to stand up, the way they looked at each other and almost hugged.
No. Stop this. He said to his anxiety.
Logically speaking, he knew that Clark and Diana weren't... a thing. Probably. Maybe.
He would know.
Right? Yes. (Maybe not?)
And if they were, Bruce was happy for them. (Liar)
Can you shut the fuck up? He wanted to scream, but he didn’t.
God, and the way Clark so quickly refused any help Bruce offered, without even looking at him? It made Bruce’s skin crawl.
And after, in the rooftop.
Clark sounded so tired.
“Are we okay?” Bruce winced internally. What kind of question was that?
But Clark understood what he was asking about, he always did.
“I don’t know.”
It wasn't a 'no', but it wasn't a 'yes' either.
It was this third thing that always seemed to haunt them.
Before Bruce could ask any more, Clark looked at the horizon with furrowed brows, wide eyes, and his head tilted slightly, the face he always made when he heard something in the distance that displeased him. Bruce just waited for it to end, but was startled afterwards by Clark's reaction.
And what he told him next, my God.
“Master Bruce?” Alfred’s voice It brought him back to reality.
He looked around and found himself sitting at the table, his untouched lunch in front of him, Dick and Jason looking at him worriedly.
“Yes?”
“You were very far away.” Alfred supplied “Any problem?”
"No, I—" he stumbled over the words. "No, it's okay. It's just that...”
“Just what?” Jason said
“How can you apologize to someone you disappointed while thinking you were doing the right thing, but doing it behind their back?”
“What did you do?” Dick threw back, and Bruce felt like he would rather deal with another mass breakout before explaining the situation.
Their dad took a deep breath before explaining what happened that night, when he forgot Clark would come for dinner and got caught up in the kryptonite experiment.
“And today, he didn’t even looked at me”
“Oh my god B, is that why he hasn’t come around? I thought he was tired of me always talking about Diana”
“He would never be mad about that, Jay” especially if Diana and Clark were dating now he didn’t say It aloud, but just thinking about it made him feel sick.
“I don’t think there is much you can do before actually apologizing, explain your reasoning and respect whether he will decide to forgive you or not.”
“Say sorry and hope for the best” Jason translated Alfred’s words unnecessarily. "Do you know when you'll see him again?"
"He's coming here tomorrow because we need to discuss a few things."
“I will make sure to have dinner ready”
“Everything will be alright, B.” Dick touched his shoulder smiling, while Jason just got up to hug him.
And not for the first time, he wondered what he had done to deserve such precious children.