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Clark had been flying high all morning. The wind ruffled his hair and adrenaline coursed through his veins, even as his feet remained firmly planted to the ground and his glasses slid down his nose. Superman wasn’t his only outlet for thrills. Clark loved being a journalist, he loved chasing the story, following leads all over Metropolis, building his case, and that final, all-encompassing feeling of good when he published a story, knowing it would help someone out there. Perhaps it was more intangible than the work he did as Superman; Clark Kent wasn’t exactly catching buildings with his bare hands, but it was just as important to him.
And so, on this crisp Tuesday morning as Clark shook hands with his last interviewee for his exposé on the crimes of a prolific Metropolis landlord whose rentals were barely habitable, he thought nothing could bring him down from his high. His phone rang, and not even the words ‘Perry White’ crawling across the screen made Clark’s smile fade.
“Clark Kent.” He answered.
“Kent! Back in the office now! You have a visitor.” Perry snapped down the phone.
Clark’s smile faltered slightly.
“A visitor? I’ve interviewed everyone I need for my story, Chief.” Clark replied in confusion.
“It’s a kid. Claims his name is Dick Grayson. Get here. Now.”
Clark’s blood turned to ice as he flew.
The ding of the elevator seemed too innocuous for the situation as Clark fell out of the elevator and into the bullpen, almost colliding face-first with Perry.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re mixed up in, Kent, but you better do something about that kid before we have Bruce Wayne and his pack of lawyers accusing us of kidnapping!”
“I- I’m not mixed up in anything, Chief! After that profile I did on Bruce Wayne we sorta…became friends.” Clark stuttered, almost cringing at the flimsiness of the statement.
Perry stared at him incredulously and Clark forced himself to meet his gaze head on.
“You? Friends with Bruce Wayne?” Perry asked in utter disbelief.
“Where’s Dick?” Clark diverted.
Perry moved aside and there, sat in his ruby red school uniform and kicking his scuffed shoes against Clark’s desk to spin around, was a bored looking Dick Grayson.
“Dick!” Clark almost shouted, barrelling towards the boy. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Dick’s head shot up, a genuine smile appearing on his face.
“Clark! I’m fine, I promise.”
Clark let that sit for a second, his heart rate trying to recover from the horrible images of a bleeding Robin in the middle of the Daily Planet. He knelt down in front of Dick, looking for any trace of a lie and finding none.
“Then why are you here, son? You should be in school, which last time I checked was all the way in Gotham, not Metropolis.”
“Maybe they don’t have school on a Tuesday anymore.” Dick huffed, a sour look taking over his face.
“Nice try, kid. Wanna tell me the real reason you’re not at school? Does Bruce know where you are?”
Dick remained silent, refusing to meet Clark’s eyes. Clark sighed and turned away, increasingly aware that they were in a room filled to the brim with nosey journalists, even though Clark did call said nosey journalists his friends. Lois’ eyes were practically boring a hole in the side of his skull from her desk.
“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna call Bruce and-“
“No! He’s gonna kill me!” Dick begged, but Clark carried on.
“And we’re gonna go into that meeting room over there and talk, okay?”
Dick eyed the glass meeting room with contempt before nodding, knowing when he had lost a battle and shuffling towards it, giving Clark a chance to breathe.
“Since when we’re you co-parenting with Bruce Wayne, Smallville?” Lois teased as soon as Dick was out of earshot.
“It’s not like that.” Clark rebuffed, focusing on unlocking his phone to call Bruce.
“Sure, Pa. Let us know what Ma says when he answers.” Jimmy piped up.
Clark slumped at his desk, curling in on himself as the phone rang as if he could block his friends from hearing the conversation with his body.
The phone stopped ringing.
“Clark. It’s a bad time, can this wait?” Bruce almost snapped down the phone.
“He’s here, Bruce.”
Clark didn’t need super-hearing to hear Bruce’s shaky exhale crackling down the line.
“Is he hurt?”
“He’s fine. Angry that I’m snitching on him about skipping school.”
“I’m on my way. Don’t let him out of your sight, Kal.”
“I won’t, I promise.” Clark replied, his eyes skipping back to Dick resting his head on the meeting room table.
“I know.” Bruce said, and Clark couldn’t help the soft smile at that.
Expertly ignoring Lois and Jimmy’s continued teasing, Clark pocketed his phone and joined Dick in the meeting room.
“Bruce is on his way.” Clark announced, watching as the boy rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. Was this the attitude Bruce had complained to him about? The attitude Clark had refused to believe existed? Every interaction Clark had had with Dick, both in and out of costume, was overwhelmingly positive. Dick was tenacious, optimistic, full of enthusiasm. This was a side of Dick Grayson Clark hadn’t met yet.
“You didn’t have to call him,” Dick mumbled. “I could’ve made my own way back.”
Clark sighed suddenly feeling very old for his thirty years, taking a seat next to the boy.
“Dick, I don’t wanna fight with you. I’m worried about you. Skipping school and coming all the way over to Metropolis? Anything could’ve happened and no one would’ve known where you were.”
Dick irritated expression flickered into one of guilt as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.
“I guess.” Dick trailed off.
“Is something going on at school, son?”
“It’s not that! Well it is, but, ugh!” Dick exclaimed, throwing his hands up.
Clark just sat patiently, watching as Dick calmed himself down and gathered his words. He’d known Bruce long enough now to understand that when it came to Bruce, sometimes it was better to be silent, interruptions whilst the man gathered his words interpreted as an invitation to fight, and though Dick may deny it, Clark knew how similar the Bat was to his Robin.
“School is boring,” Dick finally settled on, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. “I could be out there, doing something useful, helping people, but instead I’m stuck in stupid chemistry like some sorta kid! I hate it, Clark.”
“I hate to sound like my Ma right now, Dick, but school is more useful than you know. And I also happen to know you’re acing ‘stupid’ chemistry.”
Dick’s head shot up like a meerkat. “How do you know that?”
“Kid, you think the second your report card came through the door that Bruce wasn’t bragging to me about how smart you are?” Clark teased, watching the pleased but embarrassed flush colour Dick’s cheeks.
“It’s also how I know you’re smart enough to understand how school can help you help people if that’s what you want to do with your life. Doctor, teacher, EMT, the world’s you’re oyster, kid.”
“I know.” Dick said, his voice small as his eyes flickered back towards the ground.
Gently, Clark took the boys hands in his own, waiting until their eyes met again before continuing.
“It might feel like a long way off, but trust me, Dick, one day you’ll blink and school will be over for good, and when that happens, all Bruce and I want is for you to be able to say that Dick Grayson has a good, fulfilling, happy life outside of Robin. Don’t lose yourself in the costume.”
Dick blinked rapidly, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
“Okay,” Dick whispered. “I’m sorry for barging in on you at work. And worrying you and stuff.”
“I’m always here for you, kid.” Clark promised.
Dick flung his arms around Clark, pulling the man into a hug that Clark returned without hesitation, finally letting himself take a full breath and exhale. Dick was safe, he wasn’t hurt, and he wasn’t being bullied. Bruce was on his way to collect his wayward Robin, everything was fine.
Clark settled the boy at his desk, pulling up a spare seat so that Dick could begrudgingly work on his homework as Clark finally typed up the beginnings of his story. Dick didn’t complain about the homework, seemingly aware that he had pushed his luck already today, though his eyes kept skittering around the bullpen in unconcealed interest. It wasn’t like Clark could scold him for that, when it seemed like the entirety of the Daily Planet staff were sneaking glances at the absurd image of bumbling reporter and billionaire’s ward sitting side-by-side.
“Jimmy, stop messing with him. He’s meant to be doing his homework.” Clark said, choosing to scold his coworker instead, who had been pulling increasingly funny faces at the child, poking his tongue out and wiggling his fingers in an attempt to make Dick laugh.
“Yes, Pa. You used to be fun, Kent.” Jimmy teased, pretending to go back to his work. Clark didn’t have to be Kryptonian to see Jimmy silently mocking him to Dick the second he turned away.
Suddenly, silence drenched the Daily Planet, all usual chatter and ambience gone with the ding of the elevator as Bruce Wayne walked out. His hair was a mess, standing at all angles, button up shirt untucked and rumpled with the jacket nowhere to be found, and a pair of beat up old converse where sharply polished dress shoes were usually found. It was far from the most bedraggled Clark had ever seen the other man, but it was for the general public. At least, this was the most bedraggled they had seen a sober Bruce Wayne.
“Bruce! I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have left school, or come across the bridge, or come to Clark’s- oof!” Dick started, abruptly cut off as the man strode across the bullpen and pulled him into a hug.
Clark watched with a small smile as Dick melted into his guardians hold.
“I’m okay.” Clark heard the boy whisper.
Bruce nodded, pulling away from the hug.
“You gave me a heart attack, Dick. School called to tell me you’d somehow disappeared between periods two and three, and then Clark calls me to tell me you’re in Metropolis! Anything could’ve happened to you!” Bruce lectured, though his voice never strayed from its signature low, calm baritone.
“I know. Clark told me off already.” Dick grumbled.
Bruce blinked. “He did?”
Dick nodded. “Yeah. It was stupid of me to run off without telling anybody where I was. And I know I shouldn’t have skipped school either. I said sorry for interrupting him at work too.”
Clark had never seen the Bat look so taken aback. He’d clearly expected a bitter fight with Dick over running off and skipping school, the wind so suddenly taken out of his sails.
“Good,” Bruce said. “I’m glad you know that now. You’re still grounded,”
Dick gasped, ready to protest his punishment, but the twin stern looks from both Bruce and Clark quelled any rebellion he had.
“Thank you for looking after him, Clark.” Bruce continued, motioning for Dick to get to his feet.
“Of course, Bruce. Anytime.” Clark smiled.
“See you later!” Dick grinned, making his way towards the elevator, schoolbag and homework abandoned on the desk.
Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes as he lent down to pick the bag up, unzipping it so Clark could neatly slot the homework inside. Clark couldn’t repress the small smile as he watched the harried man sling the backpack over his shoulder and make his way over to Dick who want bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting to be given permission to press the elevator button. The two disappeared behind steel doors and Clark sat back down with a sigh, wiggling his computer mouse to restart his work. As soon as Batman’s patrol hours started tonight, Superman would be flying over to Gotham to speak to him about Dick’s feelings about school. It was important he and Bruce were on the same page about Dick’s education so that-
‘Wait a minute’, Clark thought, his blood turning to ice.
Maybe he was co-parenting with Bruce Wayne. Oh God.