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Clark was desperately trying to keep it together. The last thing that they needed right then was the junior members seeing another founder falter.
He tried to focus on the heartbeat, the familiar rhythmic thumping of his heart was a reminder that Batman was still alive.
He tried, but it didn’t help much. Not because of the incessant beeping of the monitors they’d hooked him up to, though those weren’t helping the situation. No, the real problem was that alongside Clark’s panic at Batman’s near-fatal injury was a steadily increasing guilt that said injury meant that Clark finally knew Batman’s secret.
Clark hadn’t wanted to take the cowl off, but Diana had very sensibly pointed out that Batman had been very clearly bleeding from the head.
His life or his secret, she’d said, and that was that.
So now here Clark was, staring at Batman’s real face. A handsome, chiseled face that was unfortunately, tragically, very familiar.
They’d talked before. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne. And Batman—Bruce—must have known then who he was talking to because Clark had never been as careful with his secret identity as Bruce, at least not amongst friends. He must have known, and yet he’d still let Clark think that Bruce Wayne was nothing more than a pretty face.
God, Clark was so stup—
“How is he?” Diana asked, interrupting Clark’s thoughts as she entered the medbay.
“Same as before,” Clark sighed. “It’s a waiting game for now.”
Diana studied their teammate.
Clark studied Diana.
She hadn’t had the same reaction as Clark to Batman’s unmasking. Maybe it was thanks to her ability to step up as a leader, or her general lower concern with the world outside of battle—but Clark knew that despite her vocal disregard for the petty goings on of the ‘world of man’, Diana knew far more about Earth’s powerful mortals then she let on.
She absolutely knew who Bruce Wayne was.
Diana was smiling softly as she looked at Batman laid out on the medical cot. “He will be furious when he wakes up,” she said ruefully. “But he will be alive.”
Clark didn’t ask if she’d already known. He found that he didn’t really want to find out how much it would hurt to be told the truth.
“I wish I would stay, but I have to go corral the team into a debrief,” Diana winced. “Lest Batman wake up and have another reason to brood.”
Her words surprised a short laugh from Clark before he could stop himself. “That’s probably a good idea. If Hal has to sit through another one of his lectures on ‘proper procedure’ I think he might actually commit murder. I’ll stay here,” he added, sobering up. “Make sure no one else gets a glance at what’s beneath the cowl.”
“Take care, Kal. He will push through.” Diana patted his shoulder and then left once again.
And Clark was left staring at his teammate’s bare face yet again.
Bruce Wayne.
The thing was, Clark had wondered, briefly, if there was more to Gotham’s favourite billionaire. There was a spark in his eye as he regularly made a fool of himself in front of a crowd that hinted at more than meets the eye. A commitment to philanthropy that went beyond his carefree attitude. And yet try as he might, Clark had never been able to justify this thought, even to himself.
But this. Clark hadn’t ever considered this.
Some investigative journalist that he was.
Even now, it felt impossible to reconcile Batman and his steadfast seriousness with tabloid angel Bruce Wayne. And yet, there was Bruce Wayne in the bed, dressed up to his neck in Batman’s armour. An enigma that Clark had made the mistake of thinking he understood.
When they’d established that it could be a while before Batman woke up, Clark had looked up Batman’s file to see if he had any emergency contacts listed, anyone he wanted notified in case of injury. There hadn’t been any names, which shouldn’t have been surprising, and yet with the newfound knowledge of Batman’s identity, Clark couldn’t help but be shocked, not with everything he knew of Bruce Wayne. Namely, the fact that Bruce Wayne had kids, plural.
Clark had never really thought about the reasoning behind Batman’s supreme secrecy. But Bruce Wayne had kids that he was shockingly private about, who were meticulously kept out of the gossip rags and real newspapers alike. It was no wonder that Batman kept everything so secret when he had to work so hard to keep his regular life private. Clark couldn’t even imagine the terrible things that Batman’s enemies could do if they found out he had kids.
God, Clark really hoped that none of the other Leaguers had seen his face before Clark pulled him from the battle. Batman may be out of commission, but Clark could at the very least protect his secret from spreading any further than absolutely necessary.
Clark was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps in the hallway outside the medbay. The steps were too soft to be Diana, setting Clark on immediate alert. He sped out of the room, making sure to shut the door before whoever was in the hallway could get a look inside.
Nightwing was standing right in front of Clark, a look of unflinching determination on his face. “I need to see Batman.”
Clark did his best to mask his surprise. Nightwing was one of the newest members of the Justice League, and he had quickly proven himself to be a highly skilled and extremely capable hero. Beyond that, he was also so naturally personable that he had easily endeared himself to just about every member of the League, from the junior members to the founders. In fact, the only hero that Clark had ever seen immune to Nightwing’s charm was the one laying in the medbay.
Almost as soon as Nightwing joined them, it had become extremely obvious that he and Batman couldn’t stand each other. Clark could count the number of times that he’d seen them in the same room on one hand—and never once had he seen them actually interact. It was so bad that Clark had actually been planning on raising the issue with Batman privately to try to stop the tension from affecting the rest of the team.
Nightwing was still staring at Clark with a coldness that he hadn’t even thought Nightwing capable of. It was so jarring that Clark felt himself compelled to explain himself.
“Batman’s recovering,” Clark said as evenly as he could. He wasn’t sure what to make of Nightwing’s decision to break his unspoken avoidance of Batman now of all times.
Nightwing’s stare remained unimpressed. “Yes, and I need to see him,” he said flatly.
Clark sighed. “Look, Nightwing, he has a head injury. We had to remove his cowl in order to—”
“Bruce Wayne,” Nightwing cut him off curtly.
Clark’s brain stopped, and then promptly shortcircuited. A silence stretched in the hallway.
“What?”
Nightwing clenched his fist. “Batman. Is. Bruce. Wayne.” He said slowly, like Clark was particularly stupid. “I already know. There’s nothing to hide. So let me in.”
Clark didn’t consciously choose to step aside, but his feet moved anyway. There was something in Nightwing's voice that made him unable to protest any further.
Nightwing took three steps into the room and then crumpled into the chair beside the bed.
Clark watched from the doorway, suddenly feeling like he was missing something huge.
“Fuck, B,” Nightwing whispered, his voice tender in a way that managed to catch Clark off guard yet again. “This never gets any easier.”
A long silence filled the room as Nightwing stared at Batman’s unconscious body, interrupted only by the beeping of the medical equipment. The emotion radiating off of the young hero was thick, and Clark felt oddly like he was intruding on a very private moment.
“I thought you two couldn’t stand each other,” Clark said somewhat stupidly. “I think Hal had a bet going about which one of you is going to snap first.”
The corner of Nightwing’s mouth twitched. “Hate is a strong word. And I’m pretty sure B’d agree that we’re pretty much through our ‘screaming and throwing punches’ era.”
“You know him pretty well,” Clark stated. It wasn’t a question, because how could it be now that he was actually seeing them together.
“You could say that,” Nightwing replied with a sigh before pulling off his domino mask. “We have our differences, but we never seem to be able to keep too far apart for very long.”
Clark watched Dick Grayson grab his adoptive father’s hand, and decided that maybe it was time to go check in with Diana.
“He was going to tell you soon,” Dick said as Clark turned to leave. “So maybe go easy on him when he wakes up, okay? There’s, uh, a lot more at stake than just Bruce Wayne.”
“I get it,” Clark said with a soft smile. “Though I might have to yell at him about not having an emergency contact listed.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that one.”
“You’ll keep an eye on him?” Clark asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“Of course,” Dick replied. He stuck his mask back on and Nightwing’s signature grin spread across his face. “That’s part of our whole dynamic. Don’t let him convince you otherwise—I’ve got his back, even if he refuses to put it on paper.”
“I can see that now,” Clark said finally before heading off to talk to Diana.
If Batman works alone, he thought as he walked away, then I'm Lex Luthor's best friend.
Changing his mind Clark, changed his path. He could talk to Diana later. For now, he needed to go track down some emergency contact forms—after all, he was pretty confident that they would be used soon.