Oh, tell me you love me.

by anonymousduchess

Summary:

Bruce wants to ask Clark an important question, but he has no idea how to bring it up.

Chapter 1: You're the one.

Summary:

Bruce doesn't understand why Clark is acting so distant.

Notes:

I couldn't decide if I wanted to put in the paragraph where Bruce and Alfred are talking about the ring, but I figured I might as well since it is important to the story. Feel free to skip over it if you want.

Bruce stares at the small box on the desk and turns it around. Then he picks it up, feels the weight of it in his hand, flips it, and sets it back down.

"If I have to watch that box go flying into the air one more time..." Alfred threatens from the workbench.

Bruce shouldn't be surprised by anything Alfred can notice at this point, but he is, anyway. He blinks and looks at the box again. "It's not going to break, Alfred."

"No, not in that mini-safe you've put it in. I am, however, concerned about the lining."

"Clark can't see through lead," Bruce replies rotely. They've been over this.

"Precisely," Alfred says pointedly.

"He's never going to see it if I don't want him to."

"I think he suspects something, Master Wayne." There's a note of caution in Alfred's tone that makes Bruce focus all of his attention on the older man.

"Then I'll just move it to the safe down here where I keep other Bat-related things." And did he really just say "Bat-related things?" "He can't see in there, either, and he doesn't have the code."

"Such a trusting relationship you both have," Alfred mutters under his breath.

"You know why he doesn't have access, Alfred. I would have given it to him, eventually, until this." He holds up the box. 

"And, if you have your way, that will sit in the safe collecting dust for eternity. You have to make a decision, Bruce."

He knows that. He knows that, and still, Alfred insists on reminding him every day. It's not an easy conversation to have, and he knows he shouldn't avoid it, but Clark's knowledge will change everything. Bruce can't be certain if things will remain the same between them (which would be a huge relief) or if things will drastically change. 

"Just do it, Master Wayne," Alfred says, tired of Bruce's procrastination.

"Isn't that a meme?" Bruce asks off-handedly.

"What?"

"Never mind."

It takes another forty-five minutes of alone time in the cave (Alfred had long since gone upstairs) for Bruce to decide that tonight would be a good night to pop the question. ...Or at least test the waters.

---

 He's ready to greet Clark when he gets home, which will probably make Clark suspicious. But just as he's turning to go back into the cave and act naturally, Clark is opening the door.

"Oh, uh, hi," Clark says awkwardly.

The surprised tone isn't unexpected, but something feels off to Bruce. He narrows his eyes slightly in suspicion.

"Hi," he repeats with a skeptical frown, crossing his arms.

The way that Clark is gripping the strap of his messenger bag and looking around quickly makes him look like he's been found guilty of something. "I thought you'd be downstairs."

There are a few ways Bruce could respond, but they all would sound suspect. After a moment's silence, Bruce decides to go with the less odd-sounding one. "I figured it might be nice for me to be here and let you talk about how your day went." And it is true because the whole point of Bruce being here to greet Clark is to see if he is in a good mood.

"You don't have to do that, Bruce. I don't expect us to be that kind of couple." Clark's tone is snippy.

"Okay, so not in a good mood," Bruce notes to himself. Clark's comment bristled him a bit, but he tries to appear unbothered.

"What kind of couple do you expect us to be?" He asks a little defensively.

Clark sighs. "I didn't mean that I expect us to be a certain kind of couple. I only meant... Do you really care about how my day went?"

Again, multiple choices of answers and all would sound weird coming from Bruce. It takes him a fraction of a second to decide on the honest answer, but he knows that his hesitation has been noticed by Clark.

"Yes," Bruce says, thankful for his ability to keep his heartbeat steady under pressure.

"It was a pretty normal day. Uneventful, except for-" Clark stops speaking and goes into the kitchen.

"Except for?" Bruce follows him, still keeping his arms crossed.

"Just some poorly written articles that I had to read. Anything happen here? Any League business I should know about?"

"Nothing new. Diana stopped by earlier."

"Of course she did," Clark mutters

"What was that?" Bruce's tone is clipped. What's with Clark's sudden attitude about Diana? Did the two of them get into a fight? No, that couldn't be it. The two of them would want to apologize as quickly as possible and wouldn't want the tension to last for long.

"I said 'Of course she did.'"

"What's wrong with that? You've never minded before." Bruce hadn't expected Clark to actually repeat himself.

"I know I've never had a problem with it before, Bruce. I don't feel good, okay? Can we just forget I said anything?" He sits down on the couch and closes his eyes, resting his head in his palm.

Okay, now that is something that Bruce is really concerned about. If Clark had a run-in with kryptonite or magic, Bruce wants to know about it so he can fix it. Frustrated that he wasn't there to stop whatever happened, he moves to stand in front of Clark to get a good look at him. "You don't feel good? Are you being serious right now or are you avoiding the conversation?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm capable of being sick of a conversation!" Clark doesn't yell, but he's more outspoken than usual. 

Bruce knows that his astonishment is apparent on his face, but he doesn't bother with trying to hide it. 

"Ah, I'd been wondering when your relationship would get to this point. It was only a matter of time," Alfred says as he steps into the living room. 

Bruce wants to tell Alfred that this isn't the time for making jokes–Clark isn't in the right mindset at the moment; something could seriously be wrong-but Clark is scoffing and interrupts Bruce.

"I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. We sound like an old married couple, right?" Clark asks, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Clark-" Bruce isn't sure what he is going to say, but he doesn't have to worry about it because Clark is dismissing him.

"Let's just drop this, okay? I'm sorry. I'm just mentally rundown right now and I'd prefer to read a book or something."

This is not how Bruce was expecting the evening to go. There is a part of him that wants to push for more answers, but he doesn't want to make things worse, so he decides to just shut up and give Clark his space.

"Fine," he replies.

There's a momentary staredown as they try to see who will walk away first, but it's Clark that breaks. "Fine. I'll be in the bedroom." He grabs his messenger bag and walks towards solitude.

"I'll be downstairs." Bruce walks away, too, feeling defeated and a bit hopeless.

---

Clark doesn't show up for dinner. Bruce eats in the cave while he finishes looking over some files of the asylum's latest inmates. He puts the box back in the safe and goes out on patrol, grateful to have something to do that will distract him for a few hours. 

It's a quiet night, so Bruce is able to go home and get some decent sleep. Clark's side of the bed is cold and Bruce tries not to look at it. He pulls the covers back on his own side and settles in for the night. He reminds himself that disagreements like this are normal in a committed relationship and that there will probably be more if they ever get married, but that barely helps ease his anxiety.

About an hour passes and Bruce is almost asleep when he hears Clark come home and feels the side of the bed dip. The skin on his shoulder warms and gets goosebumps at the soft press of Clark's lips, but Bruce doesn't stir. He secretly enjoys these rare moments when he's half-dreaming and Clark is tender with him. A secret he will take to his grave after dying a brave, heroic death.

"I'm sorry." Bruce feels the words brush against his hair and the tightness around his heart eases. 

"I'm sorry, too," he thinks to himself. 

 

Notes:

Reading other fanfics probably isn't the best thing to do while I'm working on my own... ^.^' There are so many good ones out there and the writing is so beautiful... then there's mine. :'D Just straight to-the-point. Oh well. Thank you to everyone who likes it and supports it!

Chapter 2: Here we go again.

Summary:

Bruce almost loses Clark, and due to tensions between them, he doesn't handle it well.

Notes:

Bruce's anger is coming from fear, but of course he doesn't know how to deal with that. It's fun to write a character who is using anger as a mask for everything else, but it's also frustrating because I just want to shake Bruce and say, "Just tell Clark you were scared that he was going to die!"

Bruce was already frustrated that Clark had once again flown off without thinking, but when he saw Clark's arm get slashed by the kryptonite blade connected to the eerie machine he was fighting, Bruce saw red. 

It didn't help that he'd been too caught up in the panic of the last time he'd had to watch Clark fall to the ground to see the energy beam pointing right at them. 

Thanks to Diana's quick thinking, the team didn't get hit. However, it had all happened so fast that it left Bruce reeling, and he hated when things happened too fast for him to control. 

While Diana went over to Clark to make sure he was okay, Bruce shook off the last few seconds and helped Arthur bring down the metallic tentacles of Luthor's latest project. Luthor couldn't have done this on his own, but Bruce would look into that later.

Once the machine was taken care of, the team got back into the plane (Batplane, as Barry so helpfully dubbed it) and headed back towards the cave. 

Batman is all about keeping a cold, unaffected exterior, but Bruce found it difficult to keep up that facade as his frustration boiled into pure anger. He'd been scared for Clark– not just scared: terrified. In the few seconds that Bruce had seen Clark fall and face the kryptonite blade (which had been too close to his chest for comfort), the realization came to Bruce's mind that he would have never gotten the chance to ask Clark that question. 

Then the rest of the team had almost been obliterated, and Bruce had a hard time shaking that panic off, too. It's not that he was concerned about himself––he knows it's only a matter of time before he dies––but the others had so much more to give in order to help the world.

Now that Clark is alive and healing, Bruce pushes down his fear and goes to the one emotion he knows the best: anger. 

He isn't sure what to say first, so he simply begins to take off the outer, more dangerous parts of his armor more violently than he should (he'll ignore Alfred's quips later).

He hears Diana ask Clark if he's alright, and his chest tightens as he pushes away the image of Clark's bleeding arm. Now the whole team is discussing what happened, and Bruce can't stand to listen anymore. 

"What were you thinking, Clark?" He barks as he whirls around and practically stomps over to where the other man is standing. At the sight of Clark avoiding his gaze, Bruce feels his anger grow. If this had been another time under different circumstances, maybe Bruce would feel some remorse over being so harsh. But right now, all he can feel is the need to chastise him.

"Bruce-" Diana tries, but Bruce cuts her off immediately. No one is going to make excuses for what Clark did.

"No, Diana. Clark has to learn that he can't just go flying off like that. He needs to stick to the plan, or things like this happen! He endangered all of you!" He keeps his focus on Clark the whole time.

"In case you weren't paying attention, I was hurt, too, Bruce," Clark bites out.

Bruce doesn't need the reminder, and he hates that Clark brought it up again. He should know better.

"It was your own fault!" Bruce points out harshly.

"I was trying to help! I saw the threat and I took him out." Now Clark is angry, too, and that feeds into Bruce's own vexation. It's now a verbal battle that neither one of them is going to stop by calming down.

"Once again, Clark, you overlooked the fact that it was a decoy." How many times does this have to happen before Clark finally gets it? 

"I was easily able to correct my mistake–"

"But what happens when you can't?!" He's surprised by the level of his own voice, and he feels self-conscious about his tone of desperation. But he can't help it: there will come a day where Clark can't correct a mistake, and Bruce will lose him forever.

He can feel the stunned silence from everyone, especially Clark.

"You're too cocky, Clark. And you risk the lives of others." Bruce makes sure to lower his voice this time.

"You think I don't care about that? I was trying to look out for them!"

That's the problem though, isn't it? Clark tries to look out for everyone, and that's what got him killed in the first place. It's because Clark cares a lot, it really is, but a certain amount of pride comes with that urge to help. At least, it seems that way to Bruce, because Clark always acts like nothing can happen to him.

(What Bruce doesn't know is that every time Clark saves others, he knows that there's a slim chance of getting hurt; especially after dying once before.)

"But instead you, once again, put all of us in danger because your pride got in the way! Will you ever listen to me for once in your life, Clark?!" 

"I do listen to you! All the time! But you never seem to want to listen to what I have to say."

Bruce is just about to give a sarcastic reply when Barry speaks up. The joke is an unwelcome surprise and Bruce makes sure Barry can see just how unamused he is by the nicknames. He watches Barry avert his gaze and feels a strong sense of satisfaction. He takes a moment to regroup before glaring at Clark.

 

"You don't listen to me when it comes to the most important thing: looking out for your teammates!" His eyes darken. "If Diana hadn't used her shield at the last minute to deflect that energy beam, we all would be burnt to a crisp right now." His voice is low and cold. "And you would have still been fighting that machine."

"If that had happened, I don't know if I could live with myself."

Bruce knows that, and that's another reason why he wants Clark to be more careful. Just the thought of Clark wandering around aimlessly with guilt and wishing he'd died instead of his teammates is an experience that Bruce never wants Clark to go through. His brain doesn't seem to know how to express that clearly in the moment, however, and so he ends up snorting derisively and backing up. "So you would rather die again than own up to your mistake and continue saving people?" He isn't sure where that had come from, but it's too late to take it back.

"You know that's not what I meant," Clark says quietly.

Bruce isn't blind. He can see the unshed tears in Clark's eyes, and that just adds to Bruce's frustration at himself for not handling things properly. But his anger is now a car without brakes, and the only way he can stop is to just gradually slow down and hope he doesn't hit a wall.

"Then stop acting so foolish and stay alive!" Bruce storms closer to him and looks him in the eye. "I don't think you realize how important the team's safety is. Nor do I think that you truly know your value to the people of Earth, Clark. They need you far more than they need any of us." 'I need you,' Bruce thinks, wondering if he's said it out loud. He panics and quickly adds, "That's why you need to stop going in blind and risk getting killed again."

"That's the reason why I need to make sure I stay alive."

Bruce doesn't like how suddenly Clark has removed his emotion from the conversation.

Clark takes a deep breath before asking, "That's the only reason you're concerned about my safety?"

"Yes," Bruce hisses, hoping that Clark can finally understand. Even though he'd had to admit to needing Clark in front of the team, it'll be worth it if Clark starts listening. "You're finally getting it." He turns around and takes off his utility belt. 

"Don't, Diana," Clark says. "Please. Not now. It doesn't matter."

Bruce looks over his shoulder but Diana hasn't moved. He sees the tears on Clark's face and feels his stomach drop. He's wondering what could have possibly been misheard or miscommunicated as Clark addresses the others.

 

"I'm sorry again," he states.

Cyborg shakes his head. "It happens, man. It's all good now."

"Apparently it isn't," Clark bites, but it's directed over his shoulder at Bruce. Bruce looks away. "I'll see you all later." With that, Clark is out of the cave in an instant.

After a few seconds of intense silence, Bruce turns around and is taken aback by the glares he is receiving. "What?" He asks irritably.

Aquaman shakes his head and barks out a scoff. "Not cool, man." And then he's leaving, too.

Barry looks like someone who's just been dumped: completely hopeless. "I... Later." He's gone in an instant.

Cyborg doesn't say a word and simply exits the cave.

Diana is standing there with her arms crossed and the meanest expression Bruce has ever seen on her face.

"I can't believe you, Bruce!" She says indignantly.

"What? Clark put the team in danger. He needed to be called out on it."

"But was the rest of that really necessary?!" Her voice cracks.

Bruce blinks. "I just admitted something that I never would have admitted in front of anyone but Clark, and this is how people react?" He is completely confused. 

Diana must be confused, too, because she just drops her arms and sighs in exasperation. "Unbelievable. Why don't you look back on what you just told Kal? Then you'll see what I mean. I know you have cameras and microphones everywhere." She's said her peace and she tops it off with a dramatic exit from the cave.

The petty part of Bruce really doesn't want to watch the security video, but if whatever slip-up of his is fraying the team and hurting Clark, he needs to figure out what it is and fix it. He sighs and types in the code to bring up the security video. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except...

"...They need you far more than they need any of us. That's why you need to stop going in blind and risk getting killed again."

"That's the only reason you're concerned about my safety?"

"Yes. You're finally getting it."

So Bruce hadn't said that he needed Clark. Figures. The look on Clark's face... Bruce sinks down into his chair and places his head in his hands. 

Shit. 

He has no idea how he is going to fix this.

Chapter 3: Just wait, can we work this out?

Summary:

Miscommunication on everyone's part (except Alfred), and feared lost opportunities. (It makes sense if you pay attention to Lois and Diana...)

Notes:

Any and all mistakes are mine since this is un-beta'd. I'm back! Thank you again to everyone for all of the kudos and comments!! I love reading them and I promise I will reply to all of them next week (when I finally get the chance to breathe again).<3

The title is taken from "Wait" by Maroon 5.

It's no surprise when Clark doesn't come home. It's also no surprise when he doesn't come home for two days.

At least, that's what Bruce knows logically. But that part of him, the part that has experienced people not coming back home too many times, hangs over him like a shadow. He calls twice in the span of six hours because he doesn't want to bother Clark or appear desperate. When Clark doesn't answer each call, Bruce resigns himself to his work so he can be distracted from the defeated thoughts running through his head. 

'You knew that this would happen.' 'Clark is too good for you, and he finally realized it.' 

It wouldn't do any good to get so worked up over nothing. Besides, normal couples argued all the time, right?

---

 

...And possibly not talk for two days, right?

It's been one of those days where Bruce has to show up at Wayne Enterprises to let the board members know that he's still alive, and with every passing minute, he can't wait for the day when he can retire. His mind is also on Clark, and his brain is helpful to provide him with all of the things he could say to make things better but also, knowing him, make things worse. But he can't stand not knowing if Clark is okay (there's a great chance that he is okay, but Bruce just needs to be sure), so he's making his mind up to call Clark as he opens the door to the Lakehouse.

He blinks when he sees Clark standing by the table, which is holding Bruce's favorite meal. Alfred always cooked it the best... until Clark decided to try and make it one night. Since then, Bruce has always preferred Clark's version, and Alfred almost keeled over in happiness when he found out. Something about "He finally prefers someone else's cooking, I can finally relax knowing that he'll have someone when I'm dead and gone..." Bruce stopped listening after "I'm dead and gone."

He's still staring at Clark and thinking about what to say. He's completely taken off-guard and if this were anyone else, he would have already been covering up his surprise and smoothly transitioning into a conversation. But this is Clark, and Bruce is terrified of screwing up again and making things worse. If he says or does the wrong thing, Clark will leave him again. While that would be a good thing for Clark, Bruce isn't quite ready to let go yet. (And he hates that his will-power for this kind of thing is softening.)

"Hi," Clark simply says with a genuine smile.

"Hi," Bruce replies hesitantly. He hangs up his coat and shuts the door before slowly making his way over to Clark. "What's this?" A dumb question with an obvious answer, but Bruce represses the urge to cringe.

Clark shrugs and doesn't seem to notice the slight slip-up. "I just figured I'd surprise you, that's all."

Bruce eyes the food. "Did you...?" Again, another dumb question, but he's grasping at straws here.

"I cooked, yes."

The realization that Clark actually came back, cooked Bruce's favorite meal, and is standing there with a smile on his face sinks in and leaves Bruce speechless. He's asked it before, to himself and Clark, just how he ended up with the man. But like every time before, he can't find an answer or think of anything he might have done to deserve Clark. He remembers what he said to Clark to nights ago and feels his throat close up. He can't afford to make that same mistake again.

There's an awkward pause that Bruce isn't aware of, but then Clark is sighing and moving over to the table. "If you're too tired or busy, I get it. I just thought..."

Bruce moves instantly and places a hand on Clark's arm almost desperately. He's almost lost this moment with Clark just by staying stupidly silent, and he takes a second to berate himself before he works up a small but genuine smile. 

"It looks great. Can I just wash up first?" It surprises Bruce, how steady his own voice sounds despite the thrumming of his heart. He wonders if Clark is paying attention to it, but from what it looks like, Clark is just as nervous and uncertain as Bruce.

Clark nods and smiles in return. "Of course."

Bruce changes into dark jeans and a dark maroon, cashmere sweater after he washes up and gives himself a moment to calm down. Once he feels grounded again, he decides that this is a special occasion, and he wouldn't want to dress too casually.  

When they start eating, it's harder than Bruce anticipated to begin a conversation. If he says something too casual, Clark might think he's taking this too lightly (or even taking this evening for granted). Should Bruce apologize? Yes, he should, and he wants to.

He sighs and sets his fork down. "Clark, about the other night..."

"It's fine," Clark quickly interjects.

Bruce's expression darkens. "No, it's not 'fine.'" He wants to talk about this––they need to talk about this.

"I get it, Bruce," Clark says, putting his own fork down on his plate. "I screwed up. It won't happen again."

Ah, so Clark was thinking that it was about what he had done. That is a huge relief and Bruce almost smiles from it. But instead, he allows his physicality to be more open as he says, "I wasn't talking about that, specifically. I was going to apologize." It's a good feeling to know that his apology is going to take Clark off-guard (and hopefully make him happy).

Clark blinks. "Oh."

Bruce sighs again; now comes the hard part of elaborating and admitting his own fear––something that he'd thought had been obvious in the first place. "I was scared. For you and for the team. ...But mostly for you. That trap was going to kill you. Slowly. Even if the rest of us had died first, I never want you to have to witness something like that."

"All it takes one bad day."

Bruce holds back the shiver forming in his spine.

"I appreciate the clarity," Clark says, and Bruce can tell that he means it. 

He nods and takes a moment before resuming his meal. He remembers the look in Diana's eyes when she pointed out his mistake, and he figures that she deserves credit, too.

"You should really thank Diana," he says off-handedly.

"What?"

"If it hadn't been for her pointing out what I said right away, I might not have realized it for weeks." Or at all, really. And he regrets that that's how his mind works sometimes.

"I'll be sure to thank her next time I see her," Clark mumbles to his plate. There's a moment where Bruce sees something flash across Clark's face and he tries to figure out what happened, but then Clark sets his fork down with a loud clang.

"Clark?" This isn't good.

Clark isn't looking at him. "Sorry, I just... I'm not feeling well."

Bruce feels skeptical yet genuinely concerned. Maybe something happened during the fight two days ago. "Again? We can run some tests after dinner–"

"No, I'll be okay." 

After doing a quick examination (it's not official by any means, but Bruce believes that he's had more than enough experience with seeing different illness symptoms on people), Bruce has a strong feeling that Clark just doesn't want to talk about something. "Clark, talk to me," he pleads gently. He wants Clark to talk to him.

Clark scoffs slightly, and Bruce's eyes flutter the way they do when he's nervous or processing something.

"There's nothing to talk about," Clark says, slightly irritably. 

Okay, this is probably not the best time, but maybe Bruce can turn the tide on this conversation and make it positive again. Marriage doesn't fix anything, but a spontaneous proposal might buy him some time to regroup.

He takes a quiet deep breath before speaking and reaching for the ring in his pocket. (He hadn't taken it out... He just couldn't leave it at the house.) "Clark, there's something I've been–"

Clark stands up abruptly. "Unbelievable."

Before Bruce can stop him, he's out the door, leaving Bruce to sit there and wonder just what the hell he did this time.

---

He waits thirty minutes before texting Clark and asking him if he's okay. He waits twenty minutes to text Clark and ask what he did wrong. He waits fifteen minutes to text Clark and ask what he can do to fix it.

He waits indefinitely for a response and doesn't receive one. 

It's two days later and he's in the cave working on replacing, of all things, a tire on the Batmobile. He's tempted to call Diana and ask for her advice before having to grovel to Alfred--and prove once again how hopeless he is when it comes to relationships--but he isn't about to burden her with his problems. That's not good for the team dynamic. 

So if he audibly breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her name pop up on his phone, it's understandable and only heard by the bats.

"Diana, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He says dryly, thumbing where the tire meets the rim to make sure it's on correctly.

"You flatter me, Bruce. So, did you do it?"

"If you're asking did I replace the tire, yes, but it's unsettling to me that you know-"

"Bruce." Her tone leaves no room for beating around the bush.

Bruce sighs softly. "I apologized."

There's a pause, as though Diana is waiting for an elaboration.

"And?" She asks, and if he didn't know her so well, he'd think that she sounded impatient.

"And I don't know what I did or said next, but before I could blink he was standing up, saying 'unbelievable,' and then walking out the door."

A long-suffering sigh on the other end. "The two of you give me actual headaches. Did you work it out, at least?"

"...He hasn't been back for two days."

"Bruce-" 

"I've texted him, Diana! I've called him. The only reason I know he's at Lois's is because I put a tracker in his suitcase. He must have come and gotten it before he left while I was in the cave or something."

"A tracker in his suitcase? Bruce-"

"How else am I supposed to know where he is if he won't call me back?" His tone is defensive and incredulous, and he pretends that he didn't hear the slight huff of laughter on the other end of the phone.

"So that's it? You're just going to sit there and wait for him to talk to you?"

"I don't want to aggravate him any further-"

"Maybe you don't want to be bothered when you're brooding, but you don't know if Clark would prefer to have you reach out to him first."

"He's better off without me, Diana."

"I am a patient man, Bruce, but I do not have the patience to go over this again."

Something more must have happened to make Diana sound this defeated, but Bruce is afraid to ask.

"I'll give it one more day, and then I'll go talk to him."

"You won't."

..."I won't."

"Goodnight, Bruce."

"Goodnight, Diana."

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"...You love him. You brought him back, and I'm confident that I know you well enough now to know that you wouldn't do that for just anyone. Call it whatever you want, justify it by saying that it was for the sake of the world, and other people can say whatever they want about it, but part of the reason you jumped at the chance to bring him back was that you loved him. Now he's back, and you can't let him get away again."

The circumstances were much different back then, but Bruce gets the sentiment from Diana's words, and he appreciates it.

"Okay."

 

 

Chapter 4: How will I know?

Summary:

"This love is strong, why do I feel weak?"-Lyrics from "How Will I Know?" by Whitney Houston.

There's a whoosh right outside his bedroom window and Bruce's heartbeat falters.

He sits up in bed and glances at the clock. 10:00 AM. He'd only planned on sleeping for a few hours.

When he looks out of the window, his heart quickly gets back to its normal rhythm when he sees that it's just Diana. He rolls his eyes and throws on a robe before opening the sliding glass door.

Diana looks completely put together, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and Bruce feels his eyes narrow.

"Good morning," Diana says, nonchalantly. She raises an expectant eyebrow and Bruce waits just a few more seconds longer to step aside and let her in. 

"You really are grumpy in the morning," Diana notes with amusement.

She's lucky that he even invited her in before he's had his coffee. The only other person who's had the privilege to speak with Bruce right when he wakes up is Clark-

His face must have made a weird expression because Diana is looking at him with slight incredulity.

"You've seen me in the morning before," he replies, voice rough with sleep.

"Only in costume." She follows him out into the kitchen like a shadow, and it makes Bruce's paranoia even worse. What does she want?

"What do you want, Diana?"

"Have you talked to him yet?" She asks, crossing her arms over her chest. Her braces clink together and Bruce flinches reflexively.

"I've been sleeping."

Diana scoffs, and yeah, nothing more needs to be said about that excuse.

Bruce puts the coffee maker on and takes a deep breath, bracing himself to turn around and face Diana. Her stern expression softens and she walks closer to him. After years of working together, she still hasn't learned that Bruce doesn't want pity.

Actually, she probably has learned and is just ignoring it. Thankfully, though, she doesn't reach out to touch him.

"I know I am annoying you, but I want you to know that I am no longer pushing you for your benefit or Clark's. The team needs the two of you to work this out."

Bruce blinks at Diana's firmness, but he feels glad that her nagging isn't just for his sake anymore. She's thinking about the team.

He smirks behind the rim of his coffee mug. "I thought Clark was the leader."

Diana returns the smirk, which is ten times more knowing than Bruce's could ever be.

"Alright, I'll call him tonight."

Diana is about to protest but Bruce holds up a hand to stop her. "He's at work right now, and I don't want to distract him."

Diana nods and pours herself a cup of coffee. Bruce raises an eyebrow at the familiarity but recognizes it as good for the team dynamic that she is finally opening up more.

---

Later that evening Bruce is in the cave, looking at the red dot that's moved from Metropolis to Smallville, Kansas. He feels his heart sink. He should call Clark, he knows he should (he told Diana that he would, and he wouldn't do that if it weren't for the sake of the team), but every day that Clark doesn't reach out, Bruce feels his chances getting slimmer. His logic tells him that Clark has finally stopped trying to be the first one to reach out, but his emotion doesn't like the sudden change.

Still, it sets something off inside of him and he picks up his cell phone. Before he can dial Clark's number, however, Clark arrives in the cave.

This is the second time this coincidence has happened, and it makes the corner of Bruce's mouth quirk up. The small smile only lasts until he turns around in the chair and sees the look on Clark's face. Now Bruce knows why he's here.

"You're back," he says, surprised at how tired his voice sounds. Resigned, actually.

Even though Bruce knows that Clark has found the tracker, he can't keep his heart beat even when Clark holds it out to him. He figures that he hadn't been so certain, after all, because he feels like he's trapped. 

"Is this why you haven't called to check in?" Clark asks, and Bruce can't decipher his tone.

He stares at the tracker and wills himself to look at Clark as best he can. He swallows--his throat is suddenly dry. "You're angry that I tracked you?" But is Clark angry? He doesn't quite sound like it.

Bruce watches uncertainly as Clark kneels down in front of him and smiles. Ah, so that had been amusement that Bruce heard. That helps him breathe a little easier.

"No." Clark's voice is soft and it's like a warm blanket around Bruce's tightly-wound shoulders. "I should have known. Still, it would have been nice to have gotten a quick text or phone call asking if I was okay."

Bruce's guilt is akin to that of a child being told by his parent, "You could have just told me" after being caught in a lie.

He stops holding his breath and takes the tracker from Clark's hand. "I didn't think you'd want to hear from me," he says faintly. He hears Clark's breath of laughter.

"Bruce..." The next thing Bruce knows, he's being wrapped up in familiar arms, and the change leaves him reeling. Is this it? This is what being forgiven feels like; he's felt it before, especially from Clark. Bruce isn't an emotional man, but he's allowed himself to enjoy certain moments; thanks to Clark's influence. He sighs in relief and breathes in the presence of Clark.

"I'm terrible at this," he mutters for possibly the twentieth time. He waits for Clark's next words in anticipation.

"You're getting better, though; you're admitting it this time, at least," Clark replies, and Bruce looks up in time to catch the playful expression on his face.

It feels like things are returning to normal, but Bruce is still hesitant to make another move. He doesn't want to mess it up again. As he hums and looks at Clark's lips, his brain is working overtime to come up with the perfect thing to say: either a sarcastic comeback or something serious. 

It's too risky to use words, he decides as he simply kisses Clark. He feels a sense of accomplishment rush through him when Clark pulls him closer and it overlaps his realization that they're falling out of the chair. He'd barely had time to use his reflexes to make sure that he fell in a way that wouldn't injure him (falling against Clark when the other man isn't moving is the equivalent of falling against concrete), and the tracker accidentally falls into Clark's palm. Bruce opens his eyes to find Clark's sparkling blues. For a split-second, Bruce is afraid that Clark might take the fall the wrong way (thinking Bruce pushed him or something) because it seems like he's walking on eggshells around Clark these days. But then Clark begins to laugh and Bruce is quick to follow.

"I missed you," Clark says, and his grin is blinding.

Bruce can't help but return the grin; his heart feels like it's currently grappling from one rooftop to another. As he looks at Clark, however, he can feel his confidence fading. How long is Clark going to stay this happy with Bruce? The last thing Bruce wants to do is make Clark feel trapped, so maybe the best thing to do is talk it over with Clark instead of straight-up asking such an important question.

Clark's grin disappears and he takes in a breath. "Bruce? What's wrong?"

Bruce blinks out of his thoughts when he hears Clark's voice, and he realizes that he must have been quiet for too long. "What? Oh, nothing." As he starts to feel comfortable with this new idea of his, he feels himself starting to smile again. "I was just thinking..."

"About what?"

There's a heavy pause as Bruce sees the uncertainty flicker across Clark's face. He decides to risk it, anyway. "About whether or not this is a good moment to ask you something. I don't want to ruin it, though."

Clark gives him a sidelong glance but doesn't make a move to get away. That's a good sign, Bruce notes. Then he remembers that he doesn't have the ring with him; it's back in the safe.

"But I don't have it with me..." Bruce mutters and shakes his head at himself. He rests his forehead on Clark's chest. "I'm horrible at this kind of thing." He stands up and makes his way to the vault.

"You could just ask me outright, you know." His tone is cold and biting. Bruce hasn't heard that tone since Clark's warning to the Bat when they first met. It feels like his heart stops beating at the same moment he stops walking.

He hesitantly turns around, afraid to see what expression will be on Clark's face. He's confused as to why Clark sounds so harsh. Does he know about the ring? If so, that could make things easier...or more heartbreaking. If Clark wants to be asked outright, Bruce would be happy to oblige. However, is it really that simple? Does Clark really want that?

"I didn't think–" ("you'd want to be surprised with something this life-changing") but Bruce doesn't get to finish his sentence because Clark is interrupting him.

"No, you didn't. I need to get back to the farmhouse. Here's your tracker." He tosses it on the desk and flies off.

Bruce isn't finding this situation humorous, even though it could be. All he feels right now is numb confusion. He hears Alfred's footsteps on the stairs and he turns around, raising an incredulous eyebrow at the older man, looking for some support.

"Yes, I heard all of that," Alfred says, looking a bit surprised himself. 

"What was that all about," Bruce muses out loud.

Alfred knows that question wasn't directed at him, but he feels the need to respond, anyway. "I never thought I'd see the day where your roles were reversed."

Bruce gives him an even more confused look at the odd statement.

Notes:

I am still trying to reply to everyone! Thank you so much for your support! I'm feeling self-conscious about this story again, but I think my muse will get stronger the closer it gets to the end of this work.

Chapter 5: I’m going back to the start.

Summary:

Lois pays Bruce a visit.

Notes:

Well, here it is. Sorry for the long wait! I’m still not too happy with this chapter, but my muse has been off again. I wanted to make Lois more badass and I wanted her and Bruce to have more of a moment, but for the life of me I cannot seem to write anything that works. Also, I might go back and rewrite/add a few things to the first work in this series, just to make Bruce’s hurt in this work make more sense. I’ll let you know in the next update if I changed anything so you all can check it out!

Thank you again to everyone for all of the kudos and comments! They really do keep me going when I feel like such an amateur fic writer.

"Lois, hi. Is something wrong?" The last person Bruce had expected to see standing at his front door gives him a polite smile with piercing eyes.

"I don't know yet. I need to talk to you."

Bruce blinks and wordlessly steps aside to let her in. Her hair is reminiscent of flames as it lightly bounces in time with her heels. The door has just been closed when Lois turns to Bruce and peers at him through narrowed eyes.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Bruce isn't intimidated, but he is concerned. He's never experienced it firsthand, but something tells him that it would be very unpleasant to be on the receiving end of Lois Lane's wrath.

"I'm fine. I don't intend to stay long. I would have called, but I didn't want to give you time to think up an answer."

As always, Lois looks for honesty. Bruce respects that, and he's told Clark more than once that Lois's tactics of getting people to cough up the truth are just as sneaky as Bruce's (not the Bat, obviously...those are just violent).

"Okay, what would you like to know?" He asks, sitting down and motioning for her to do the same.

She complies, but she just sits there and studies him for a good minute before her posture eases up a little. "You love Clark, right?"

Bruce blinks. "Yes." It's obvious, isn't it? He just doesn't like to be very open about that kind of thing because he prefers that kind of thing to be private. (It's not because he's afraid that the more he talks about it the greater the chance that it will be taken away from him. Definitely not...)

"He doesn't seem to think so anymore." Lois's words are straightforward but her tone is soft. Her expression softens just as Bruce feels his stomach drop.

He tries to say something eloquent and neutral but the only thing he can ask is, "Why would he think that?" Lois gracefully ignores Bruce's slightly panicked tone.

"He-" She purses her lips to keep from saying anything more. They must have talked, or maybe she just doesn't want to presume and make things worse. She sighs and tries again. "He told me about the argument you two had after the League's last battle."

Bruce knows that Clark is still good friends with Lois, but it doesn't take away the embarrassment he feels about one of his failures being discussed with Clark’s ex-girlfriend.

“That was a mistake. I already apologized for it, but he started acting weird when I mentioned Diana," Bruce explains.

Lois tilts her head in innocent confusion. "What did Diana have to do with your apology?" 

Bruce sighs. He really doesn’t want to re-live that moment again. “If it hadn't been for her pointing it out, I might not have realized exactly what I had said and didn't say."

It's not the whole story, but Lois is smart enough to figure out the rest of it. She shakes her head and huffs out a fond laugh. "Oh, Clark..."

“Why do I get the feeling you're not telling me something important?" Bruce narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“No, don't worry about it. It's honestly not a big deal, but it's Clark's place to tell you. Not mine. Just... Make him feel wanted, okay?"

"I-"

Lois holds up her hand. "I mean, even more than you already do. And talk to him, Bruce. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but you will have to be the one to bring it up because Clark doesn’t seem willing to start the conversation this time." She bites her lip and takes a deep breath, but she doesn't say anything. She shakes her head and sighs. "Just tell me one thing."

”Okay..."

Lois stands up a bit straighter and puts her shoulders back. She’s ready for a big confrontation. “Are you trying to kill Clark?"

If it weren't for the serious tone Lois is using, Bruce might have barked out a laugh. But he knows that she is genuinely concerned, and the guilt he feels from his past choices comes rising up in a wave of nausea. He stands his ground, though, keeping his feet firmly on the ground and not allowing his body to sway.

"Of course not," he replies firmly, almost angrily.

“Because if you are-."

“What?!"

"Just humor me, please. If you ever hurt Clark or try to kill him, a whole metal suit is not going to protect you from me. I know who you are now, so I wouldn't need to physically wound you to teach you a lesson."

Lois could, technically, ruin Bruce's life and his mission because of her knowledge. Back when the League was planning on bringing Clark back to life, Bruce had had no choice but to tell Lois that he was the Batman. He hadn't even been very hesitant about it due to his need to bring Clark back. But now, he's regretting that choice, even though he isn't really surprised that Lois is threatening to blackmail him.

They stare each other down for about one minute, both knowing that neither one of them is going to move any time soon. Finally, Bruce relents with a sigh and resumes his stare, only this time it is intense and it dares Lois to look away. 

She doesn't.

“If I ever hurt Clark again or kill him, I want you to turn me in to the highest form of government with a list of every single crime I have committed by being a vigilante."

Lois doesn’t blink as her eyes search Bruce’s. He knows that she’s looking for the lie, but she isn’t going to find it. The only thing he leaves out is if Clark were to ever turn irreversibly evil, but now Bruce isn’t sure if he could even go through with it.

The thought makes him feel like he’s choking, so he pushes it out of his mind.

Lois leans back, satisfied with Bruce’s statement. “I’ll hold you to that. One more thing: are you interested in Diana romantically?”

Bruce’s eyebrows almost disappear behind his bangs and he’s grateful for the self-control he’s mastered, or else he’d been sputtering. “No. Why?” He almost asks, “Is Clark?” but that sounds juvenile and he doesn’t need to embarrass himself any more than he already has.

“Because I’m dating her now, and I’d appreciate it if none of the other League members made a move on her.”

This time Bruce can feel his eyes almost popping out of his head. He has so many questions, but when he gives himself a few more seconds to think about it, he isn’t really surprised. It makes sense.

”I sure hope Clark isn’t interested in her, because I’m going to ask him to marry me,” Bruce declares, just for the satisfaction of seeing Lois being thrown off her high horse.

“What?!” She sounds excited. “Are you serious? That’s great!”

“You can’t tell him!”

Lois rolls her eyes. “Of course I’m not going to tell him and ruin the surprise! I’m so happy for you two! Clark will be thrilled.”

”You’d think differently if you saw the way he’s been acting recently,” Bruce mutters  

Lois is looking at him again with that face: like she simultaneously does and doesn’t believe a word Bruce is saying. It’s that investigative reporter look, and Bruce’s heart twists at the reminder of Clark.

He’s tired of second-guessing his choices at every turn, and the fear of losing Clark is coming back to grip at him with a vengeance. He’s getting angry now, and his eyes narrow. “Have you done enough prying? Are we done here?”

Lois opens her mouth to reply but it’s Clark’s voice that they both hear next.

“Lois?" Clark sounds just as surprised as Bruce when he first opened the door.

“Clark," Lois says, giving her friend a small smile.

“What are you doing here?"

Bruce doesn’t like the way Clark is looking at Lois like she’s the only person in the room. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t stoop so low as to be jealous, but how can he not be? He was Clark’s second choice, after all, and a choice that wouldn’t have ever been considered if none of the past ever happened.

“I was just leaving," Lois replies. Her tone is threatening, and Bruce feigns an infuriatingly innocent expression.

When Lois looks back at Clark, she gives him a small smile. "See you tomorrow."

“Bye," Clark says. The door shuts but Bruce can’t get out of attack mode until he sees the car pull away.

"What was that about?" Clark asks, finally turning to acknowledge Bruce’s presence.

Bruce swallows down the bitterness burning in his throat and tries to look confused as he shrugs and says, "No idea. But I guess Lois and Diana are dating now." It’s the best he can come up with at the moment; he doesn’t want to get into a whole thing with Clark, and he genuinely isn’t sure why Lois showed up her to interrogate him like that.

“Yeah, she told me earlier today."

“Diana?" Why did he just ask that?

“Lois,” Clark says with that skeptical eyebrow raise whenever he isn’t sure if Bruce is in the right mind.

"Right."

There is an awkward silence that Bruce can hardly stand, but he needs to take a moment to mull over what Lois had told him and find a way to include it in the conversation he already wanted to have with Clark.

A good distraction, however, is the fact that Clark showed up as Superman. Bruce gestures to it, being reminded by the familiar gesture of when he had to point out the Lasso of Truth to Arthur.

“I thought it was League business," Clark says.

The tension in Bruce’s body releases significantly. Okay, so Clark hadn’t come prepared for some kind of fight or a “I’m only going to talk about superhero business right now” conversation.

“No, it's not,” Bruce replies.

“Then...?"

“It's about us."

Here goes nothing. Bruce is sure that he’s made bigger decisions than this, but he can’t think of any.

Chapter 6: Surrender up my heart.

Summary:

Bruce and Clark talk, but Bruce still doesn't get to ask his question.

Notes:

I merged two chapters from the first part of the series in this chapter because it flowed better. Thank you once again to everyone for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting!<3 It really does help me!

"What about us?" Clark asks. Hesitance is written on his face and all over his body.

Since Clark seems just as uncertain about this as Bruce, maybe the conversation won't get out of hand.

Bruce studies him as he gathers his thoughts and tries to get a more accurate read on Clark. He takes a deep breath and lets it out with a sigh to buy himself some more time. It's only a few seconds, but each one counts.

"Whatever's going on between us, I don't want it to continue. I don't know what more I've done wrong, but I'm sure I've done something. I wish you would just talk to me, Clark." Does he look as desperate as he feels? He's really trying to communicate with Clark, but he isn't sure if it's working.

He wants to slink into the shadows of the house under Clark's steady gaze; the weight of defeat is too heavy right now. He should have known that Clark wouldn't want to talk very much.

"Or don't talk to me. Look, I get it if you're too angry to talk but can you just tell me if we're through or not?" He feels the bile rise in the back of his throat at this repeated failure. Bruce wants to know the answer, but he couldn't he stay in this unknowing limbo just a bit longer? That suspended moment of uncertainty that leaves him blissfully unaware of just how Clark is feeling about their relationship. Lois had said that Clark still loves him, and would even be thrilled to get married, but that's not what Bruce is seeing in Clark's eyes right now.

Clark blinks and steps a bit closer to Bruce. Bruce doesn't feel the need to back away; instead, he meets Clark halfway as soon as he hears a soft, "Of course we're not through." Bruce grasps Clark's elbow. It feels like a privilege to be able to touch him, and he's momentarily taken back to the first few months of their relationship. It had taken a lot of silent convincing from Clark that he wasn't going to break whenever Bruce touched him.

Still, Bruce isn't convinced that Clark isn't going to call it quits. "Just tell me what I've done, or what I can start doing to make things better."

There's another too-long pause from Clark and Bruce can already hear the "there's nothing you can do," so he leans closer a bit more desperately. That's when he notices that Clark's eyes have gone soft-yet-focused like they always do when he's using his x-ray vision. He's about to ask Clark what he's looking for when he feels arms being wrapped around him.

"Thank you," Clark says with a small smile.

Bruce is at a loss yet again. "For what?" His arms automatically wrap around Clark; that's an instinct that he should probably train out of himself, but he doesn't want to.

"For putting it away."

Bruce tenses for a split second as the image of the ring flashes across his mind; he'd kept it in the safe until he felt like it was a good time to mention it. He's taken off-guard by Clark knowing about the ring, but it only lasts for a second before it's replaced by cold resignation. But Clark is happy, and that's all that Bruce really wants, so he has to play the whole thing off.

As if it isn't breaking him that the one thing he started to genuinely want has been pulled away from him and locked away.

He lets out a sigh and asks, "So we're okay then?"

The next thing Bruce knows, Clark is kissing him. It's a brief press, but it painfully reminds Bruce of what he's been missing.

"What do you think?" Clark asks with that glistening smile, and Bruce can't help himself. He needs another taste.

He gives Clark a knowing smile and kisses him firmly and sincerely. Halfway into the kiss, Bruce remembers that he needed to talk to Clark, and he hasn't gotten any answers. He breaks the kiss and gazes at Clark.

"Really, though," he says seriously, "what's wrong?"

Clark shakes his head. "It's not important anymore. I can tell that you're sorry, and I don't want to keep talking about it."

Tension is back in the air, but it's not nearly as bad as it usually is, so Bruce forces himself to nod and not push the topic. "Okay," he yields. 

The question is still gnawing at him, and he makes a mental note to bring it up again in the far, far future. Right now, things are okay again, and he doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.

---

Bruce can feel Clark smiling, again, but they haven't even gotten started yet.

"What?" He asks, trying to ignore the fact that his voice is already affected by their contact. What happened to the prowess and mastery with which he used to play hard-to-get? 

"Nothing, just... I just thought of something poetic, that's all."

Ah, right. Clark happened.

It's a sweet, very Clark-like thought, but Bruce does have a flicker of insecurity at the fact that Clark is still coherent enough to think full thoughts. Maybe Bruce should give himself a break since they've really only been kissing, but again, where's his mastered skill of quickly seducing?

"Of course not. Always so negative," Clark says with a fond smile. He cups Bruce's cheek and kisses his forehead. "You inspire my poetic thoughts."

Bruce rolls his eyes at the corny statement, managing to repress an irritated groan, and Clark snorts out a laugh.

"It's cheesy but it's true!" He defends.

Bruce silences him with a deep kiss and presses him further down into the mattress. It isn't that he doesn't like Clark's cheesy comments...it's just that he'd never admit it out loud. Clark would never let him hear the end of it. Besides, right now Bruce wants to focus on making up to Clark by showing him just how much he needs --loves-- him. He's hungry to show it, and maybe he's adding a few growls in-between the more genuine ones, but he knows that's something Clark enjoys. Now if only another part of Bruce's body could be just as eager to participate, that would be great. When Clark's barely-audible moan does nothing to help the currently useless appendage gain interest, Bruce knows that he's in trouble.

"Bruce, please," Clark whispers into the kiss.

The arch of Clark's skin against Bruce's and the way he asks so delectably causes a surge of fire in the lower part of Bruce's middle, but it doesn't seem to make it much farther than that. Bruce isn't one to give up so easily, but he's been trying for over ten minutes now and it's obvious that it isn't going to happen for him tonight. He sighs defeatedly and breaks the kiss.

"What's wrong?" Clark asks. Bruce can hear the disappointment.

He sighs and lets his eyelids fall shut as he buries his face in the crook of Clark's neck. He can't bear to look in those puppy-dog eyes when he admits another failure. He's been trying so hard to give Clark everything...

Damn it.

"I'm sorry," he mutters against Clark's skin. "I'm trying, but I can't-" He cuts himself off and lets the rest of the sentence hang in the air.

He hears Clark's huff and feels gentle fingers card through his hair. It's enough to give Bruce goosebumps and feel a warm flush of pleasure, but that's it.

"That's it?" Can Clark read minds now? "It's okay."

"No, it's not." It's never going to be okay if he keeps failing Clark like this. Clark asks for so little...

"Bruce–"

"I don't know what's wrong." He pulls away and sits up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm into it, but I just–" If he weren't so bothered, he might laugh at how typical that poor excuse for a justification sounds.

"Bruce, it's alright." Clark's tone is gentle and patient.

Bruce doesn't deserve it; he doesn't want to hear it. He keeps his eyes off of Clark. "You keep saying that but I don't agree with you. I just don't understand it. I trained today, that should have helped."

"It's been awhile, maybe you're-"

"Out of practice?" Bruce looks at Clark ruefully. 

Clark's face has the barest hint of amusement before it turns serious. "No, not out of practice." 

"You have to be upset, Clark."

"I mean I'm a little disappointed, but I'm also okay with just kissing. That's what we did the first time, remember? You didn't want to rush things." He smirks and Bruce can't help but smirk back at the memory.

"I was surprised at how eager you were, Kansas," he shoots back.

Clark laughs. "Can you blame me?"

"Yeah, all these scars are so sexy." His tone is sarcastic and playful, but the always-present shadow of sincere doubt is there in his thoughts without fail.

"They are extremely sexy," Clark says lowly, prowling over to Bruce and kissing the bullet hole scar on his pectoral. He runs his hands across the map of scars on Bruce's back and pulls him closer, causing Bruce to let out a regretful groan.

"Clark, stop torturing me."

"I can't help it." Clark kisses another scar on Bruce's shoulder.

"I'm not going to just sit here and have all the fun." As much as he would enjoy it, he's not going to be selfish. So he forces himself to sit up and lick into Clark's mouth, just the way he likes it.

Then he gets an idea.

"Let's see if this will help," he mumbles in warning. He waits for the inevitable pause as Clark tries to process what Bruce has just said and then takes advantage of that loss of guard. He flips Clark over onto his stomach and places a hand between his shoulder blades.

Clark's grin is mischievous and, although he'd been expecting reciprocation, Bruce still gasps as he's being turned over. 

Clark is grinning above him, and Bruce feels like he's a love-struck teenager again.

---

The sparring didn't help, but Bruce had found plenty of ways to satisfy Clark last night, and he was quite proud of himself. It had been a pleasant but exhausting activity in its own way, so Bruce had fallen asleep. His sleep, however, wasn't as deep as Clark's, and he found himself tossing and turning that night.

So when he feels something soft tickle his nose, he begrudgingly flutters his eyes open to look at the culprit. As suspected, it's Clark. 

"Good morning," Clark says.

Bruce winces, but he hides a smile behind his arm. "What are you so happy about?"

Clark tenderly presses his lips to Bruce's. "When was the last time we woke up together like this?"

Bruce thinks about it and frowns. "It's been awhile, I know that much." It's been too long, actually, and Bruce has missed waking up to Clark's beaming face.

"Mhm. So that's why I'm happy, Mr. Grumpy–"

Oh, no, not this. He's too tired for this. "Don't say it-"

"-Wings."

He makes sure to give an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh as he turns around and looks at the clock.

The bitter realization of the time is briefly placated by kisses along his upper back. Still, it's too early, and Bruce knows that he doesn't have anything to prove to Clark now that they're so comfortable around each other.

He loves Clark, but Clark can wait because he didn't really have to wait last time.

"It's seven in the morning," Bruce complains.

"So?"

"So I'm going back to sleep. I don't have anywhere to be today."

"You would rather sleep than be with me?" Clark's tone is playful.

"I would rather sleep with you," Bruce says, matter-of-factly.

Clark quirks an eyebrow and smirks, and Bruce realizes that his statement hadn't sounded as literal as he'd meant.

"I mean that literally," he corrects, wrapping his arms around Clark. "As in sleeping side by side."

"No morning fun, huh? Your age is showing."

That earns Clark a smack to the head with a pillow, but Clark just laughs and says, "You weren't even trying!"

"Sleep," Bruce mutters, burying his face against Clark's arm.

"Can I kiss you until I fall asleep?"

A long pause for dramatic effect (in no universe would Bruce say no to that), and then...

"Fine. Just don't expect me to reciprocate. I'm too tired, and I don't want my performance to be underwhelming."

"Hah, yeah, okay." Clark laughs and starts kissing down from Bruce's cheek to his neck. Goosebumps follow wherever Clark's lips go, and this is the kind of sweet pleasure that Bruce has never experienced with anyone else.

It soothes Bruce back to sleep very quickly.

 

Chapter 7: Getting bad at goodbyes.

Summary:

Bruce and Clark have another heart-to-heart after a rough night of patrol for the Bat.

 

Bruce tells Clark that he has a new case to work on as the Bat, but that's only partly true. It's a helpful excuse to give, though, because Clark knows that when the Bat is on a case it's legitimate. And this case is, too, only... The case is how to deal with five people asking him the same question about why he hasn't proposed yet -or nagging him about how he can't let the opportunity slip away- every time he turns around. Okay, that's an exaggeration, but it is taking its toll on Bruce's brain, so there are times when he lets the logic of Batman take over so he can try to look at it with fresh eyes.

These are the facts that he's thought on these past two weeks: every time he is about to bring the ring up, Clark acts defensive and annoyed; when they had that talk two weeks ago and Clark thought that the ring was gone, it appeared as though he was getting back to his old self; when they spent the night together, Clark was completely back to his full self; however, whenever Diana is brought up, Clark gets irritable. Could Clark be jealous? No, that's ridiculous, especially now that Diana and Lois are dating.

Ah. Maybe that's the problem.

Clark doesn't like it that Lois has found someone.

That thought stays with Bruce even when he's on patrol, and although there are plenty of moments where he's able to focus solely on his work, the thought comes back like a mosquito that keeps buzzing around him every so often; but no matter how hard he tries to slap it away, he misses it. And then it leaves for a while. And then it comes back. Over and over again.

Bruce is glad that Clark has his own work to be busy with, because if Clark were home a lot, Bruce isn't sure if he'd be able to keep from randomly snapping. Still, it's something that they should discuss, but another fact: Clark walks away from any discussion about Diana. Then again, he seems completely unbothered when Lois is mentioned, so that means... Ah, yes, maybe Clark is jealous that Lois is dating Diana? The two possible conclusions don't quite make sense to Bruce, but they are the only two reasonable options he has right now.

He only realizes his focus has shifted when there's movement in an alley and it brings him back to reality. He growls in frustration at the possibility that he's missed something important just now. When he lands in the alley and looks at where he'd heard the noise, all he sees is a cat blinking at him. He sighs and checks the time before deciding to head back to the cave.

On his way to meet the Batmobile (again, he'll need to come up with a better name for it...) halfway, he comes across the few remaining stragglers of a gang. They are arguing about what to do while the leader is in prison, but they're still cocky enough to think that they can take on Batman. It's a close call because his mind isn't as sharp as it needs to be right now and that only fuels his anger, so his punches hit much harder, which makes the fight shorter. A few baseball bats whack against his side and his legs, but the armor takes most of the brunt damage so he's able to bounce back quickly. 

When the gang members are all finally zip tied to the streetlamps and waiting for the cops, they start babbling.

"How can one person beat us?"

"Because that thing's not a person, idiot."

"There's no such thing as giant bats, alright?!"

"Shut up! Do you wanna make him angrier?"

Bruce just smirks and grapples back to a rooftop. The car is parked in an alley a few buildings down, but due to his bruised legs, he isn't able to get there in half the time he normally can. When he drops down from the roof and gets in the car, he feels the protest of his muscles. The soreness of his knuckles, even through the armor, prove that he'd hit pretty hard.

"Have fun, sir?" Alfred's dry tone rings through the earpiece.

Bruce sighs and begrudgingly admits, "My mind wasn't completely on the fight."

"I should say it wasn't. Perhaps you should have heeded my warning about how late it was getting?"

"I'm not slowing down because of age, Alfred," Bruce snaps. Yes, he's older, but as long as he can keep his mind focused on a fight, he can still win.

"I never said that, sir. But I could tell your heart was no longer in it. It was off somewhere with your mind."

Bruce can hear so much fond accusation in that tone that he almost relents his harsh attitude. But he doesn't want to admit that his mind was on a relationship issue during patrol, because that's exactly what he'd been afraid of when he started this whole thing with Clark. It isn't sensible to be in a relationship (that's what he'd thought in the past, anyway, and now he's beginning to believe it once again).

"I'll take care of it, Alfred. Get some rest."

Alfred sighs and there's a long pause. "Very well, sir. But I wouldn't retire yet if no one else was here to watch you."

He's talking about Clark, and maybe it was said to make Bruce feel better: the fact that someone else loves him enough to help him out, but all it does right now is make him feel like a child who needs a babysitter.

...Alfred wouldn't disagree.

 

 

---

 

"Bruce."

Clark's voice has an odd effect on Bruce: the sound of it instantly irritates him but then the irritation is replaced by complete numbness and resignation. He had hoped to just take a quick shower and go to bed without having to talk to Clark. But if they're going to have to argue, then they're just going to have to do it.

"Hm," is all Bruce says in reply, hoping that Clark gets the hint that he isn't in the mood to talk.

"It's almost five in the morning." Clark gets the hint (Bruce is sure of it) but just ignores it.

Clark has come downstairs at an inopportune moment: Bruce had just shed his outer armor and was halfway to pulling off the thinner layer when he'd paused to acknowledge Clark. He's surprised that Clark didn't say anything about the bruises right away.

It's late, he's exhausted, and he's in pain; he doesn't want to deal with this right now. "So?" He snaps, hardly regretting it. When Clark moves towards him, Bruce moves away to the computer. He just doesn't want to deal with anything personal right now, and that includes Clark helping with his injuries. So he fills out a report and tries to tune out Clark's presence.

"I was just worried about you," Clark says gently. 

Not this again. Not tonight. "You know that I'm-"

"Perfectly capable of taking care of yourself. I know. But I still get concerned when you come home later than usual."

Bruce briefly grits his teeth before he scoffs. He can't stand it when Clark repeats his words back to him. "I've gotten home later than this. But that was before we ever knew each other. And once we started living together, well..." He shrugs a shoulder half-heartedly and finishes up the last few sentences in his report.

"I know you didn't stop coming home late for my benefit," Clark snarks.

Bruce blinks in sharp irritation. Why does Clark care so much, anyway? Is he just trying to take his mind off of his jealousy of Lois? "I stopped because I knew you'd only get concerned and then possibly lecture me." His tone is defensive as he saves the report with a firm click of the mouse.

He can feel Clark's disapproving gaze on him, but he ignores it without much effort as he continues to shed his armor. When Clark chuckles, Bruce immediately feels defensive again and wants to know if Clark is laughing at him.

"What's so funny?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.

Clark meets his gaze and it seems like all the frustration is gone from Clark's body. "I think Alfred was right."

Bruce isn't sure what to say to that, so he merely frowns in confusion.

"Awhile back when we were arguing, Alfred made a comment about us fighting like an old married couple. He's right, we just did it again."

If Clark had still been upset, Bruce would have stormed up the stairs without a second glance. But the familiar fondness in Clark's tone gives Bruce some hope that maybe Clark is still happy enough in this relationship to not miss what he had with Lois or might have had with Diana. His chest tightens, but he reminds himself that Clark is genuinely smiling, so maybe everything is going to be okay.

It's still difficult for him to manage a full smile in return, though––he's exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally––and the best he can give Clark is a slight smirk. 

"I guess we did," he says, stepping closer to Clark.

 

Clark grins. "Didn't mean to henpeck you."

Bruce's smirk grows (Clark is still using his quirky Southern terms, so that's a good sign). "I think you meant to say 'nag.'"

Clark shrugs. "Same difference." He lightly traces a finger over Bruce's gloveless wrist, dropping his gaze for a moment before looking back up at Bruce through his eyelashes.

Does Clark feel like he still needs to put on a show for Bruce? That thought makes Bruce drop his irritable temper.

"I just care about you," Clark mutters.

Bruce sighs. "I know." But how much?

"I don't like it when you're miserable. When you're miserable, I'm miserable."

Bruce actually laughs out loud at the cleverness (and perfect timing to his own unspoken question) and pulls Clark in for a hug.

"Fair enough," he says.

They stand there a moment before Bruce feels Clark's lips on his neck work their way up to his ear. Bruce breathes out a soundless sigh and allows himself to revel in the touch for a few moments before pulling away. It takes all of his willpower to pull away, but Clark needs to know that nothing is happening tonight, no matter how badly Bruce wants it to.

"Clark..." He can hear the despondency in his tone.

Clark blinks and smiles guiltily, remaining where he is and keeping Bruce in his embrace.

"I'll give you a reward if you go to sleep. Or I can help you get to sleep," Clark quips suggestively.

As tempting (and humorous) as that offer is, the rest of Bruce's body isn't getting the memo. He wonders if Clark can even catch the brief smile before it disappears–– Ah, he caught it; he's stepping away.

"I'd love that, Clark, but you won't get very far." He says ruefully.

"Again?"

Bruce can't suppress his flinch because his guard is too lowered to hide his emotions.

Clark looks like he regrets it, but he still presses the topic. "I mean, okay, but... Earlier today you said that we could try again tonight–-"

"Technically I said that yesterday, but Clark, I can't. You have to understand that I'm not doing this on purpose." He tries to silently plead with Clark, unsure if he has the courage to plead out loud.

"Okay," Clark yields, the light in his eyes dimming and his tone dejected. He averts Bruce's gaze, which makes Bruce feel like he's just kicked a puppy. He feels his muscles tense up again as he tries to decide what to do to keep Clark from leaving him.

"Clark." He sounds lost, but he doesn't care––maybe this will help Clark see how serious he is about staying together. He searches Clark's gaze. "I'm sorry-"

"No," Clark is quick to interrupt, grabbing Bruce's face in his hands. "You don't have to be sorry. I just..."

Bruce is taken aback by Clark's sudden change in attitude, so he merely stands there and stares at Clark, completely at his mercy.

"I don't know what I can do to make things better. I'm sorry I'm not that attractive to you anymore, or that I'm boring-"

Oh, no, none of that. "Stop." Bruce wraps his fingers around Clark's wrists and gently pulls his hands down. He holds them close to his chest (a subconscious gesture) and doesn't let go. Any doubt Bruce had about Clark leaving him is replaced with fierce determination to make Clark understand that this isn't because of him. "This isn't because I'm bored or because I think you're not attractive anymore. It's just age." He exhales the last word and drops Clark's hands, turning away to pick up his gloves because he needs something else to focus on.

"But-"

"You may not think that I'm old, Clark, but I am. And I haven't taken it easy. I've pushed my body beyond its limits too many times to count, and you've seen the evidence of all the breaks and tears I've gotten over the years. That hasn't helped to slow the aging process." He hates talking about his age.

"Bruce-"

"That's why I was hesitant to start anything serious with you." Bruce turns around to face Clark for a split second before he realizes that he can't manage it. He searches for more armor to put away and picks up his gauntlets. His inadequacy starts to crush him.

"I knew this would happen eventually," he continues, throwing pieces of armor on the workbench with more force than is necessary, "and like I've said before, you deserve better, Clark. Not just the sex: better everything. But you wanted something serious, you wanted to 'settle down,' so to speak. Well, this is what happens. Especially when you date a human who ages twice as fast as you." The words had gradually come out faster so he's left slightly winded when he stops speaking. He looks down at a shinguard in his hand (the only piece of armor left) and realizes that he's been hurriedly piling the armor up on the table. He waits for Clark to see how hopeless he is, waits for Clark to mutter an apology and fly away, but instead he feels Clark take his hand in a calming gesture.

"You've heard my rebuttal as many times as I've heard your argument, and it hasn't changed. No matter what you think about me deserving 'better,' I want to be with you. Personally, I think you deserve someone better than me. Someone who isn't such a boy scout. Someone who doesn't rush into a fight without thinking about the consequences and puts his teammates' lives––or his own life––in danger."

Bruce's eyes flash at the memory and the fact that Clark is talking so harshly about himself (what is he thinking, talking about himself like Bruce is too good for him?). His eyes narrow and he's about to firmly lecture Clark on how wrong he is and why, but Clark is kissing his cheek and moving to kiss his lips. but that's not what Clark wants him to be thinking about right now. He kisses Bruce's cheek and then kisses him gently on the lips.

"It's just my own stupid insecurity. I'll get over it," Clark says with a small smile.

Bruce isn't sure if Clark is just saying that to avoid an argument, but his eyes look sincere enough, so Bruce relents and tries to make things a bit lighter. "Just know that if for some stupid reason I ever get tired of you, I won't drag you along. But if that ever happens, please make sure I'm in my right mind before leaving." Spoken playfully, but one-hundred percent true.

Clark huffs out a nervous laugh, which makes Bruce wonder what Clark is thinking. Did that statement just make it harder for Clark to admit that he's already feeling dragged along?

"You got it," Clark promises sincerely.

Yeah, Bruce is definitely paranoid. He pulls Clark in for another kiss that grows passionate from all the things that Bruce wants to say but can't bring himself to mention them. He hopes that maybe wakes a certain part of him up, but no such luck. He sighs and pulls away, muttering something about needing to go to sleep.

Clark growls, and that sound sends a pleasant shiver down Bruce's core.

"Tease," Clark mutters.

Bruce just laughs as he heads up the stairs and waves without looking back.

Notes:

Ahhh it's finally here!! Thank you so, so (x100000!) much to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos!!<3 I really appreciate everyone's support and I am so happy that I was finally able to get another chapter posted for you all! <3 I was going to try and put two chapters into one again, but the last chapter of the first series is too long, and it's late. Dx This chapter was supposed to be out on the 22nd of April (yeesh!) but time got away from me. Thank you for hanging in there, though, and not abandoning me!

Chapter 8: No doubts, no regrets.

Summary:

Bruce meets Lois for coffee to discuss something important.

Notes:

I'M STILL HERE!! I am so sorry for taking forever to post, but I've just been stuck on this chapter. I never feel like it's good enough, but I decided that I wanted to let you all know that I am still here and haven't abandoned this story!<3 It might take me awhile to update, but I'm always planning and thinking about it in my mind. This was supposed to be published on May 28th, but as you can see, that didn't happen. Life happened, instead.

If you can't guess who the next person on Bruce's list to visit is, it's Martha Kent! I was going to include his visit to her in this chapter, but I'm too worn out and antsy to let you all know that yes I am still here. Please enjoy the read, and excuse any grammatical or formatting errors. I am just too dog tired to go over it again and I know I'll probably lose the confidence to post it if I go over it one more time.

And thank you for all the kudos and comments! I feed off of them and they encourage me, so feel free to comment some more!<3

 

It’s something that Bruce really doesn’t want to do, but it has to be done. He won’t tell Alfred about it until after it’s done and over with; he doesn’t need his father figure to think that he’s making too much out of nothing.

 

Showing up at Lois’s apartment uninvited will make her suspicious, and it would be rude, so that’s out of the question. He bites the bullet and sends her a text.

 

B: Coffee?

 

Thirty minutes pass before he gets a reply, and he surprises himself when he breathes a sigh of relief.

 

L: Sure.

 

That’s how Bruce finds himself sitting in a corner booth at the back of a small cafe in Metropolis. Lois had offered to go to Gotham, but Bruce wanted Lois to be as comfortable as possible. He feels like there is still some animosity between the two of them, and he wants to make sure everything is out in the open before he asks Clark to marry him.

 

His stomach refuses to stay settled at that thought, so he takes a deep breath.

 

Which is immediately ineffective when Lois walks through the door. She notices him and waves before motioning towards the counter. He holds up his own coffee cup with a nod and watches as she orders. There’s no sign of tension in her shoulders, and she smiles easily at the barista.

 

When she sits down across from him, he pulls out his wallet. Lois stiffens and something flashes in her eyes.

 

“You don’t have to do that–“

 

Does she think he’s showing off his wealth? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

 

“Please, let me.” But it sounds more like a question. “As a friend.”

 

Lois eyes the wallet and then eyes Bruce, reading him.

 

“Is this what it feels like when I’m staring at someone?” He shifts in his seat and hides it by crossing one leg over the other. He’d known that his stare could be intimidating (he’d made sure of that) but it’s another thing to know what it feels like to be studied so closely by someone who doesn’t trust him. Probably because, as loathe as he is to admit it, he does care that Lois sees him as someone she can trust.

 

Lois’s shoulders relax and she sighs. “Okay. Thank you.”

 

Bruce feels his own muscles relax and he smiles slightly as he hands her a five.

 

“It was seven dollars, actually,” Lois states.

 

Bruce pauses and looks at her. The corner of his mouth curls up higher at the sparkle in her eye. “Seven, then.” And he gets two singles out of his wallet.

 

“Yeah, they’ve raised their prices for the chocolate latte.” Lois purses the money.

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Some reporter discovered that the cheaper substitute used instead of sugar ended up raising cholesterol levels. The company switched back to a healthier alternative, but apparently that costs the company more, so they had to up the price.”

 

Bruce smirks. “That’s too bad for the loyal chocolate latte drinkers.”

 

“Yeah, kind of shot myself in the foot there.” Lois takes a sip of her coffee but her eyes are still sparkling.

 

Bruce chuckles, although he’s not surprised at Lois’s sense of humor. “Sounds like a bad business move on the company’s part.” It isn't at all, really, but Bruce wants to see how far this little back-and-forth will go.

 

“It wasn’t one of my best moments of journalism, but I was getting sick of puff pieces.”

 

The mood grows somber and it reminds Bruce why he invited Lois here in the first place. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward.

 

“I’ll write another article about the healthier alternative, though, and why it's worth the money. Either the price should return to normal, or people will be willing to pay more.” Lois knows that the mood has become serious, Bruce can see it in her eyes. She also looks uncomfortable as she tries to stay on the current topic.

 

“Lois, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Bruce begins cautiously. There are a number of ways he can start the conversation, but he figures the best way is to just get on with it. “Clark is... very important to me. But I need to know if you still have feelings for him. Because if you do, I’ll step back–“

 

“Wait, stop.” Lois looks almost offended and slightly confused. “What is this all about?”

 

Alright, blunt honesty it is, then. “I want to ask Clark to marry me, but if there’s a chance that you still love him, I don’t want to interfere.”

 

“Interfere?”

 

Bruce looks out the window and sits back in the chair. It would be easy to say that he was Clark’s second choice, but it wouldn’t be fair to speak for Clark.

“I...” He searches for a way to explain it without putting words in Clark’s mouth. “You were Clark’s first true love, and the one who brought him back to himself when he was resurrected. That’s something that...”

 

That I don’t think he could ever have with me.

 

He swallows and refuses to blink.

 

“Bruce.” Lois’s voice is patient even when Bruce refuses to look at her. “What I had with Clark was real, but it wasn’t lasting. We ended up wanting different things, and I couldn’t live with how protective he was over me. What you have with Clark... that’s real, and I believe it will last.”

 

“If he hadn’t died, maybe you two wouldn’t have broken up–“

 

“‘Maybe.’ But that’s something none of us can ever know. I doubt we would have stayed together; it probably would have just taken us longer to get to the point where we knew we weren’t right for each other.”

 

Bruce wants to believe that Lois is right, he desperately wants to believe it, but that nagging doubt won’t leave him. It puts his stomach in knots and makes his back ache.

 

Lois stares at her coffee for awhile. “Part of the reason we broke up wasn’t just because we fell out of love. It was because we’d fallen for other people.”

 

Bruce turns to look at Lois, and she smirks at his expression.

 

“I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, and I’m not mad at you. The two of you were bound to meet at some point. It made it easier that I had someone, too. It was just frustrating because I didn’t want to be as certain as Clark was about you.”

 

“Didn’t want to...?” Bruce isn’t sure what Lois means.

 

“Diana.” Lois’s face tells the rest and Bruce’s eyes widen slightly with understanding. “I was a bit surprised that Clark was so certain of his feelings for another man, and I was also jealous because I warred with myself about Diana.”

 

That’s quite the confession, and Bruce isn’t sure what to do about it. He’s grateful that Lois can trust him with that information, but he’s never been good at touchy-feely interactions. Thankfully, it seems like Lois is in the same boat because she doesn’t wait for him to flounder out some awkward sentiment.

 

“So does that make you feel better?”

 

“You didn’t answer my question clearly, and you should know by now that I like absolutes.”

 

Lois rolls her eyes but she doesn’t look too put out. “No, Bruce, I am not still in love with Clark. I am perfectly happy with Diana, though, so if you ever want to ask her to marry you, you’re going to have to fight me because a cup of truce coffee won’t cut it.”

 

Bruce laughs and Lois cracks a smile. “Thank you, Lois. I just wanted to be sure.”

 

“So, how are you going to ask him?” Lois leans forward conspiratorially.

 

Bruce hadn’t expected the conversation to take this turn; he’d expected Lois to begrudgingly thank him for the coffee and then leave. But this is nice, even if he’s trying not to blush at the fact that he hasn’t come up with a concrete plan, yet.

 

“Well, I...”

 

“You have no idea, do you?”

 

Bruce winces and looks away; he’s starting to feel unworthy again. Lois notices this and shakes her head.

 

“It’s not the end of the world, Bruce. You’ll think of something. But here’s a suggestion. Actually, it’s more like a reminder. Clark doesn’t need to be taken to some fancy restaurant. Compared to the farm and his love of simple things, the top of the Eiffel Tower pales in comparison.”

 

“He can fly up there, anyway,” Bruce mutters.

 

“Exactly. So don’t worry about trying to impress him.”

 

A phone rings and startles the both of them. Bruce is just about to check his phone when Lois growls out an exasperated sigh.

 

“This current source of mine doesn’t know when to stop. Not every frowning person is suspicious.” She presses the ignore button and gives Bruce an apologetic smile. “They’ll call again soon, and I should be getting back to work, anyway. Thank you for the coffee.”

 

Bruce smiles and waves dismissively. “I get it, so don’t worry about it. Thank you, Lois.”

 

Lois studies him again, but it’s more inward this time. Bruce tilts his head slightly but Lois waves him off and goes outside. Then she stops and sighs, looking like she’s struggling with something. As she walks back inside to their booth, Bruce’s heart is in his throat. Did she change her mind?

 

She takes a dollar out of her purse and hands it to Bruce.

 

“It was only six dollars.”

 

Bruce raises an eyebrow and hesitantly takes the dollar. He knows Lois wouldn’t let him leave without it, anyway.

 

“That was some fast reporting,” he quips. The feeling of relief he feels is sublime.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Lois mutters as she walks away.

 

He sighs in relief and takes a sip of his coffee. One down, one to go. Hopefully the next trip will go as easily as this one did.

Chapter 9: I promise to hold him close forever, for as long as he'll have me

Summary:

Bruce visits the Kent farm.

Notes:

I'm back! I hope at least a few people are still interested in this story. .-. I am so sorry for the delay! Things happened in real life and I was just feeling really down, but my confidence has come back and I'm ready to finally complete this story! I promised I wouldn't abandon it! ...It just took me a while to be able to return to it. But I didn't want to half-heart it, so hence the wait. Heh... Forgive me? ^^' I hope this chapter and the next both make up for my absence.

 

At this point in their relationship, marriage is the next logical step. Martha had even said so, herself, many times. Still, that doesn't keep Bruce's nerves from rattling as he steps up to the door of the Kent house. He takes a deep, steadying breath and reminds himself that this is going to be fine; the conversation will go smoothly. Martha will probably (definitely) be overjoyed at the news.

He knocks on the door and feels his throat tighten. 

Martha peers out of the door, clearly not expecting anyone, but her expression changes as soon as she sees Bruce smiling nervously. 

"Bruce! Dear, come in, come in," she cheerfully opens the door and ushers him inside, taking his coat just as he makes it through the door.

"I'm sorry to drop in unexpectedly..." He says ruefully, realizing that it would have been better to call her and ask if they could set up a time to talk.

But Martha shakes her head and shoos him over to the kitchen table. "Nonsense. You're family, Bruce, how many times do I have to remind you of that? You're just as welcome here unexpectedly like Clark is, honey."

Bruce's heart swells in his chest and he tries to swallow past the emotion; to have someone like Martha Kent say that to him and actually mean it...it's a lot to handle, but he appreciates it with every fiber of his being.

"I appreciate that, Mrs-" He cuts himself off at the glare she sends him. Yes, Clark definitely got that look from her. "Martha," he corrects, relaxing his shoulders when Martha smiles at him. 

"That's better." She sounds happy as she bustles around the kitchen. "I'd offer you some coffee, but the afternoon sun is a killer right now. It'll cool down in the evening but I doubt you'll be staying that long." She's politely trying to gauge why Bruce is here.

"Not unless you need me here that long, no." He sits at the table and wishes he had a hat to fiddle with; he has no idea what to do with his hands. "I actually came to ask you a question."

She raises an eyebrow as she sets down a glass of lemonade in front of him. He could have called her with a question, that's the unspoken statement hanging in the air. Martha Kent knows that something is up. After pouring herself a glass, she sits down across from him. "I'm all ears."

Another deep breath, but this one isn't very noticeable. "I came here to ask for your blessing to marry your son."

There's a heavy pause and Bruce immediately holds his breath. Had he read Martha wrong this whole time? Had her mentions of marriage just been light teasing that wasn't meant to be taken seriously?

"Finally!" Martha's whole demeanor has changed into a kind of joy that Bruce hasn't seen on her since Clark came back from the dead. Her voice is pitched slightly higher and she jumps up to run over and give Bruce such a tight hug that he's really taken aback by the woman's strength. He'd known of her strength emotionally, mentally, and even physically when he would help her with things around the farm (during Clark's death, Bruce had made visits to help however he could, which had involved physical labor that he welcomed), but this kind of strength was never expected. He chuckles slightly, still reeling from how fast this all happened, and awkwardly pats her back. When she pulls away to look at him, her eyes are gleaming with unshed tears. "Of course- of course, you have my blessing, Bruce."

His own eyes begin to burn and he clears his throat softly. "Thank you. I had a feeling, considering all those times you'd hinted at marriage, but I just wanted to make sure." He smiles, nervous and wry, but Martha's own smile helps him relax. She's in on the joke, too.

"You were just raised to be a proper gentleman. It's about time you asked my boy to marry you." She playfully smacks his arm.

Bruce chuckles and it sounds less nervous now. He shrugs slightly. "I've been considering it for some time. It's just..." He fiddles with the ring box in his pocket.

"Just?" Martha has sat back down and is now studying him intently. 

The last thing he wants to do right now is talk about how things are a bit rocky in his relationship with Clark, but he also wants to make sure that he's reading Clark correctly. If he proposes and he's read Clark completely wrong, everything will blow up in his face. 

"Has Clark seemed...different with you?"

"Different how?"

Bruce grimaces. He really doesn't want to speak anything negative about Clark, especially to the man's mother, but he has to know. "A little... I'm not sure how to explain it. One minute things are going great, and the next thing I know I've done something wrong and Clark is storming away. I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with, but I thought..."

Martha chuckles softly and pats his hand. "That's called 'marriage,' sweetheart."

His heart somersaults and he looks up at her, unaware of how much he looks like a hopeful little boy. 

She nods again, certain that her boys are just experiencing a new part of their relationship. "Looks like you waited a bit too long to make it official, Bruce. You've been with Clark for so long that you're already turning into an old married couple."

Bruce mirrors her amused smile and he visibly relaxes back in the chair. "Okay, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't wrong about anything."

"You're the Batman, you're never wrong," Martha deadpans, and Bruce laughs freely. He feels looser now, and more excited about the future.

"Just make sure to discuss any arguments you have and you two will be just fine," Martha adds.

"Thank you, Martha. I really appreciate it."

"Can I see the ring?" Martha smiles brightly.

"Please," Bruce replies, taking out the box and handing it to her.

She opens the box and gasps, making Bruce blush slightly. The ring isn't flashy because he knows Clark prefers simple things, but maybe Bruce hadn't made it simple enough.

"It's perfect, Bruce. He'll love it."

"I... I hope it's alright that I, uh..."

Martha looks up at him questioningly.

"Remember when I asked you about Mister Kent's wedding band?"

Martha begins to tear up and Bruce feels his heart plummet. She'd given him the ring without question, told him that he could give it to Clark because she'd never gotten around to it, and now he was about to tell her what he did with it. Without asking.

"Well, that's it..." He gestures to the ring and Martha studies it again. "I just had a small sliver of sapphire and onyx put in along the middle of the band, and had it engraved on the opposite side of the original engraving."

"Bruce..." Martha sounds breathless and Bruce waits in horror for her to chase him out of the house. But she blinks up at him and beams, putting the box to the side so she doesn't drop it when she wraps her arms around him again. "You are the most incredible man I've ever met. ...Aside from Jonathan. And Clark. And Alfred."

Bruce laughs disbelievingly but returns her hug. When Martha collects herself with a few sniffles and then sits back down, Bruce sighs audibly. "I thought you were going to skin me alive since I didn't ask if I could customize the ring a little."

"Goodness, no!" Martha seems slightly offended but also understanding of Bruce's thought process. "I'm sorry I left you panicking there. I was in such awe... That ring had been given to you and Clark because I trusted you to do with it what you wanted, knowing that you wouldn't destroy it or treat it disrespectfully. I never dreamed that you'd customize it into something so personal and thoughtful."

Bruce feels himself blushing. He appreciates Martha's honest reaction, but he's never known how to handle praise like this. "I just hope Clark doesn't get mad."

Martha waves her hand dismissively and shakes her hand. "He will love it, I know he will. It's the perfect customization."

Bruce smiles fondly and stares at the silver band. "The man who customized it is the same man who customized my parents' rings."

Martha's hand covers her heart and she smiles softly. "I'm sure he was thrilled to be making your rings."

Bruce laughs, remembering the look on the man's face. "He thought I was messing with him at first, and he wasn't happy. He told me that I shouldn't be so cruel, but when I showed him a picture of Clark, he finally believed me. He went on and on about how proud my parents would be. I hadn't expected such a reaction from him."

"People are very surprising," Martha says knowingly.

Bruce nods, knowing exactly what she means; those words carry a lot of meaning behind them. 

"I know that Jonathan would have loved that ring. Will you be wearing your father's?"

Bruce nods. "But I'm going to let Clark decide if he wants to add something to it."

"Knowing Clark, he'll be hesitant at first to change something so meaningful but then he'll want your ring to be as special as his."

Martha and Bruce share a smile. However, the second Bruce's smile falters when he glances at Clark's ring, Martha's intuition goes on high alert.

"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet." Her tone is a soft warning.

When Bruce doesn't answer, Martha stays quiet for a few minutes. There's only the sound of the kitchen clock quietly ticking away. 

"Bruce? What's wrong?" She gently squeezes his hand.

He breaks out of his thoughts with a blink and hesitantly looks at Martha. The second he sees the concern and worry in her gaze, though, he drops his eyes back to the ring.

"As I said before, Clark has been acting strange. Maybe 'distant' is the correct word for it. There was a moment recently where I was going to pull the ring out and propose, but he got this look on his face..." He winces at the memory. The look of disgust on Clark's face... 

"Did he see the ring?" Martha asks.

The band around his chest eases up a bit. "No, he didn't." He looks to Martha in realization and mirrors her smile.

"You're a good woman, Martha. A great woman. I'm not sure I could ever repay you for everything you've done for me."

"Didn't I tell you that when you got the house back? Or when you brought my son back?" Martha smiles playfully and walks over to give Bruce another hug. Before she can bend down, though, Bruce stands up and embraces her. He senses the woman's surprise but she soon relaxes and pats his back.

"You're a good man, Bruce. I know that my husband would be proud to call you his son-in-law."

Bruce blinks back tears and finds that he can only whisper around the lump in his throat. "Thank you."

Chapter 10: You'll never see me again.

Summary:

Everything Bruce knows comes crumbling down around him and leaves him the most broken he has ever been in his entire life.

Notes:

Title is taken from Adele's song by the same name: "You'll Never See Me Again."

 The summary could be considered a bit dramatic, but this is Superbat we're talking about here... And what is Superbat without some drama?

Also, I hadn't planned on ending it here, but some things came up and I wanted to put a chapter out before things got really busy. I'm halfway through what would have been the rest of this chapter, so that should be coming out in another chapter soon! Thank you again to everyone who has followed the story, left kudos, and/or commented! <3 It makes my day every time I read them!!

At least Diana waits until everyone else is out of the room before she approaches him.

"Have you asked him yet?"

He sighs internally and begins typing up the meeting report. "Diana-"

"You know he doesn't listen in on conversations unless it's important." 

That's not what he was going to say, and now he needs to wait for another opportunity to tell her to leave the topic alone.

"I locked it away." That's all the information that Diana is going to get.

"What?" Diana sounds appalled. Bruce allows himself to revel in the satisfaction of making her almost speechless. 

"When we made up, he thanked me for putting it away. So the whole thing should have never happened. It's gone now." If he didn't know any better, he'd think the rock in his chest was just some form of indigestion. Such a bitter memory--a bitter reminder that he can't have everything he wants.

"Bruce–"

"Enough, Diana." He's getting angry now.

"Bruce, you need to talk to him," Diana says, her voice gentle but firm.

"I know." Bruce refuses to look at her.

"Why are you so afraid of his rejection? You have no reason to worry. Things are great for the two of you, aren't they?"

"Yes." He doesn't have the energy to tell her how things have been fraying at the edges lately. "But I don't want to trap him, Diana. If he says yes and then decides–-realizes-–he's made a mistake and doesn't want this anymore, I don't want him to feel obliged to stay."

Diana merely raises an eyebrow and looks right through Bruce (and boy, does he hate it when she does that).

Bruce stares right back at her, but he soon finds his resolve wavering. They used to be able to (hypothetically, because neither of them has the actual time for it) do this for hours, but the more Bruce finds himself on the receiving end of silence alongside a disapproving expression, the more he starts to hate it. You'd think the years of suffering through this from Alfred would have desensitized him by now.

"Clark is finally seeing how difficult it can be to live me," Bruce murmurs.

Diana's expression softens.

Bruce drops his gaze with a flutter of his eyelids.

"You know that he needs this. It's for his own good. And yours, too. Neither of you can keep living like this."

There was a time when he'd agree with her, but unfortunately, he now knows the truth. 

"I just can't bring myself to ask him–"

"We've been over this-"

"Just drop it, Diana." His tone leaves no room for argument, and Diana merely blinks at him. Now that he's got her waiting in anticipation, he can be more candid. Not a lot, but just enough to get her to stop asking. His tone is softer when he adds, "Please, just drop it for now. Maybe you're wrong; maybe this life and this situation is just right the way it is--without adding anything more to it."

Thankfully, Diana gets the hint, or maybe she just doesn't feel like arguing anymore. Either way, she leaves without a word

---

He's in the vault staring at the ring when his watch alerts him that Clark is home. Clark will get suspicious when he can't hear his heartbeat. Bruce quickly exits the vault and dashes up the stairs, just making the turn into the living room when Clark calls for him again. 

"Clark! You're home early."

"I always get home at six." Bruce can hear the suspicion in Clark's tone. Is he being too casual? Or not casual enough? He makes himself calm down and pushes away the ideas he'd been pushing around in his mind.

He glances at his watch. "Is it six already?"

"Ah, Master Kent, there you are. Right on time." Alfred comes around the corner and Bruce breathes a silent sigh of relief. "I was just trying to convince Master Wayne to take a night off from patrol. Perhaps you could be more persuasive."

"Uh–"

Good, Alfred is distracting Clark. It will hurt to tell Clark that he can't take the night off, but hopefully, all will be forgiven in the next few days.  "I can't take tonight off, Alfred. I need to make a few more modifications to the suit and then I'm leaving. This is the only night Gordon has time to discuss a plan to get Arkham a better lockdown system." That's not the whole truth: later tonight he plans on working out how exactly he is going to propose. After Diana had left, he'd sat there with the thought of marriage batting around in his brain for the next two hours. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore: he knew that he would always regret not officially asking. Maybe there had been some kind of misunderstanding when Clark had told Bruce to put the ring away. Bruce can't imagine what kind of misunderstanding there could be, but he knows that if he dwells on it for too long, he'll lose his nerve.

---

The search for new shipments of kryptonite threaten to take time away from the proposal planning, but Bruce doesn't let that happen. It means that he has less time to spend with Clark, though. If he were to let Clark help, the intuitive man might catch on to what Bruce is planning, and that can't happen. Bruce prides himself on being able to keep secrets, but he's been with Clark for so long that he knows he can't hope to keep something from him without being cold or suspicious. So when Clark offers to help (it was inevitable, really) he ignores the disappointed look on Clark's face when he denies the Boy Scout (it's difficult and leaves a pain in his chest, but he manages). Still, he manages to keep things normal between them, and Clark doesn't seem to suspect anything.

Until the dat of the proposal. Bruce tells Clark that it's going to be a late patrol because he's finally confiscating the illegal shipment of kryptonite, and when Clark immediately tells him that he's tagging along, Bruce has to really put his foot down. Turns out he couldn't avoid being distant with Clark, after all. Even while planning a marriage proposal. Figures.

He's told Martha his plan and she was thrilled to be able to be a part of it, so hopefully some time at the farm will help take Clark's mind off of everything. 

 

---

 

His hands are shaking slightly as he fixes his tie. He'd gone between casual wear or a suit for two hours before finally deciding on a mix between the two: a dress shirt and a blazer, dress pants, and dress shoes. No three-piece needed. With one more look at himself in the mirror, he presses down all thoughts of "You're crazy. Why would he want you?" and heads into the living room.

"Will you be returning tonight or do I have the night off?" Alfred asks as he finishes stoking the fire.

Bruce chuckles at the subtle humor. "I plan on having us come back here, but I'll go with whatever Clark wants."

Alfred's eyes widen and he places his hand on his heart dramatically. "Sir, I believe you have been brainwashed!"

"Very funny. Don't wait up, Alfred."

"Of course not. I also won't bake something special and put up a banner to commemorate one of the most important moments in your life."

Bruce can't tell if Alfred is serious because his tone is dubious, and he's looking at Bruce with a poker face. Bruce just shrugs and opens the door. "You can do whatever you want, but it won't be considered part of your pay."

Alfred actually smirks.

"But really, you don't have to make a big deal out of it." Although he appreciates the sentiment, he really isn't sure if Clark will want to come back here or stay at the farm, so he doesn't want Alfred to go to so much trouble.

"With all due respect, Master Wayne, I have been waiting for this moment for over two decades. I will do what I please."

A laugh is practically punched out of Bruce from the unexpected remark. "Fair enough," he concedes with a smile. 

But he pauses when he turns to the door, and his hand hovers over the doorknob.

Alfred knows what's happening. "Sir," he begins gently, "if you have never trusted my advice before, trust it now. You have nothing to worry about. Master Kent loves you just as much as you love him."

"I think, in this situation, I love him far more than he loves me." It's not a slight towards Clark; it's just the truth. Bruce would die for Clark in a heartbeat. He'd face the worst kind of torture if it meant that Clark could be safe for the rest of his life. He would even- ...He would even put aside his own dreams--his own mission--if Clark asked him to.

Alfred says nothing and Bruce takes a deep breath and goes to his car. 

(...But first, he triple checks his pockets to make sure he has the ring. He may be the Batman, the man who plans for everything and forgets nothing, but Batman has no place here tonight. Tonight, it's just Bruce and Clark. Stripping off all of his layers leaves Bruce feeling extra vulnerable, but he reminds himself that he'll feel safe when he's with Clark. He shouldn't give Clark that much power, the Batman warns. He should only feel the safest by himself. But Clark broke down that kind of thinking years ago.)

 

---

 

Ah, perhaps he'd overdressed. He sees Clark walking out of the barn and worries that Clark might be upset if Bruce doesn't give him time to "freshen up." Frankly, Bruce loves the farm-boy look Clark has: dirt, sweat, and all. But there have been moments in the past where Clark has insisted on showering first and putting fresh clothes on. Bruce smiles fondly at the memories.

"Bruce?"

Clark's voice breaks the peaceful quiet even before Bruce can step completely out of the car. He falters only slightly, freezing for a split-second before standing up and shutting the door. His breath is taken from his lungs as he takes in the sight of Clark this close to him. His skin is shining and the sun has his eyes lighting up ethereally. He notices the raised eyebrows pointed in his direction and he glances at his own clothes. Okay, so this is a designer blazer...Yeah, maybe he could have dressed down a little more. But that shouldn't matter right now. 

He smiles and takes the few steps forward needed to get close to Clark. "Hi," he says, almost shyly.

"Hi. What are you doing here?" Clark has absolutely no idea.

Bruce grins. He shrugs slightly, almost nonchalantly. Can Clark hear how hard his heart is beating? How fast it's racing? 

"I missed you," he states.

 "You missed me."

"Yes." What's that in Clark's tone? Is Bruce missing something?

"You flew out and then drove here because you missed me? I've only been gone for an hour, Bruce."

Bruce's pulse falters but he tells himself to stop analyzing every little thing. But as they maintain eye contact that grows continually uncomfortable, Bruce feels his heart rate slowing and his hopes dropping. He sighs and mentally shrugs off his excitement. "I see the corn hasn't completely grown yet." 

"It's almost to Ma's shoulders, so she shouldn't get lost anytime soon."

Bruce smirks and continues to read the situation. "I'm not worried about her getting lost." He looks pointedly at Clark. There are no tales of Clark ever getting lost in the corn, but Bruce can joke around, can't he? That's still allowed.

...Right?

"I could find my way through the cornfield even before I started getting my powers," Clark brags.

That sounded a little playful, but Bruce is pleasantly surprised at the response. He tries to figure out if Clark is being honest, or not. Maybe he's just messing with him. Okay, that's a good sign. Then he gets an idea and gives Clark a mischievous smile. He nods towards the corn and says, "Show me how."

He follows Clark a few feet into the field and the knowledge that he's about to ask something that will change their lives forever, for better or worse, gets his heart pumping harder again.

"Do you really want me to show you?"

Clark's voice almost startles him. He's tempted to say yes and leave it at that, but the sun is just starting to set and they have a perfect view of both the barn and the house. A perfect view of Clark's childhood: where he grew up and where he became the man he is today.

"Yes. But there's something that's been on my mind for awhile now and I just haven't been able to bring it up." Yes, this is the perfect moment. He reaches into his pocket and tries to tell himself that there's no need to brace for a "No."

"What are-"

Bruce is so wrapped up in his own nerves, in making sure that all of this is perfect and he doesn't mess up his small speech, that he doesn't notice Clark's apprehension.

He should have noticed it.

"Clark, I trust you completely, and I know that you trust me..." He trails off and sighs, looking at the ground. The words seem to be stuck in his throat and he's getting disappointed in himself. Just ask him, you idiot! It's fine. "I had it all planned out in my head. It was perfect."

"Why?" Clark's voice is strained and Bruce looks up, hopeful that Clark is as breathless in this moment as him.

"Why what?"

"Don't play dumb with me." Clark's voice is dark.

The tone is a sharp jab to Bruce's abdomen and it's suddenly hard for him to breathe. "What?" 

"How can you ask me that? How could you bring that here?" Clark gestures to the box in Bruce's hand. 

Bruce looks at it for a moment before looking back at Clark. He feels like he's in a parallel universe. He thinks... It's hard to tell what he's thinking, because his mind seems to be frozen in an endless loop of "what is happening?"

"I thought–"

"You thought what?"

Clark's tone causes Bruce to feel like the ground is imploding and dragging him down with it. He hadn't planned for this. He knew that he should have planned for this. "That we were on the same page."

"Ha!" Clark's laugh is bitter. A knife in Bruce's side. He holds back a wince as Clark continues. As this nightmare continues.

"So you thought that it would be completely okay for you to just show up with that thing? That I would just go right along with it and say 'Sure! Why not? I'm fine with that!'" 

And suddenly, it happens in a second. The thought process is so fast it's a miracle that Bruce can even keep up with it: Is this Clark's revenge for getting back at him? No, Clark wouldn't consciously do that. Bruce knows him too well... Or does he? Does Bruce really have the privilege to know Clark as intimately as he'd thought? No. He doesn't deserve to. But how could this be happening? Either this is Clark getting revenge, or this is the universe's way of paying Bruce back for all of his past mistakes. Including what he'd done to Clark years ago. His vision darkens and glazes over as his composure threatens to break. But he can't show weakness in front of Clark. He will not give Clark that satisfaction.

However, on the off-chance that he's still misunderstanding what Clark is saying, he tries to clarify one last time. But he keeps building up a wall between them.

"I thought that this was what you wanted-"

"You what?!" Clark's voice rises an octave and rises in volume. If Bruce had remained vulnerable like earlier, he would have been startled. "You have got to be kidding me! You're not stupid, Bruce!"

"Apparently I am." Apparently he is very, very stupid. The biggest fool on the face of the Earth. He'd fallen for Clark and done exactly what he'd warned himself against ever since that night his parents died: Don't make yourself vulnerable. Don't get attached to people, because it's not worth the pain when they're ripped away from you. Don't ever let yourself love again. He even keeps Alfred at a safe distance, but Alfred is different. Alfred hadn't been old when he first started working for the Wayne family, but there was always the knowledge that he could quit his job and leave if he wanted to. Or that he could be fired and Bruce would never see him again. Bruce had known that since he was a little boy. 

"You actually thought that..." Clark runs a hand over his face and huffs out a cold laugh. "I thought that we would at least talk about it first. That I would be part of that conversation, or that I would be the first one to bring it up. How could you think that it would be okay to just throw this on me?"

"I–" He doesn't feel like he's functioning anymore. All he can do is stand there like a speechless idiot and hope that he's doing a good job of acting indifferent. 

"You know I heard you and Alfred talking about this exact thing?"

He feels the blood begin to drain from his face. Why hadn't Clark said anything sooner, then? Why had he allowed Bruce to drag this out? To give him false hope... "You what?" He can barely hear his own voice.

"Months ago, I overheard you and Alfred talking about it. 'Clark can't see through lead. He's never going to see it if I don't want him to.' I can't believe that you were actually thinking about never bringing this up!" 

A small light of understanding starts to break through the dark clouds in his mind, and he feels like he has the chance to rectify the situation. If that's all that Clark is upset about, Bruce will reassure him. "I know, Clark. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. But–"

"'I would have given Clark access to the lead safe until this,'" Clark mimics Bruce's voice and points to the box in his hand.

Bruce visibly deflates again but remains silent. How can he possibly explain to Clark that he was going to give him access to the safe again once Clark accepted his proposal?

There's a heavy pause before Clark says lowly, "'Clark's knowledge will change everything.'"

Bruce can't even flinch. The conversation sounds horrible out of context. But if Clark would just give him the chance to explain--

"I can't believe you."

There's another long span of silence as Bruce takes everything in. He's allowed to be angry and upset, right? Even if this is justice for his sins of the past, he can try to fight against it, right? He's unaware of how his subconscious starts shutting him off emotionally from Clark. He's vaguely aware that he's glaring.

"I can't believe you," Bruce rasps. His throat feels like sandpaper. "Are you sure you're thinking clearly?" Maybe Clark has a weird alien virus or something that is causing him to think irrationally. 

Clark scoffs. "Do you think I'm crazy or something? No, Bruce, I promise you that I am completely clear-headed. And Diana was in on the whole thing. I should have known."

What?

Why is Clark bringing her into this? What is his sudden distaste for Diana all about? 

There's that nagging suspicion again...

"What is your obsession with her all of the sudden?"

"You're with her practically all the time!"

Oh. Clark is jealous because he's developed an attraction for Diana. Well, Bruce can't fault him for that. Diana is extremely attractive--

"Are you jealous?" Bruce hisses, barely aware of what's he saying because his mind is swirling with possibilities.

No, it can't be what you're thinking. What you've been worrying about off and on ever since Clark started dating you.

"Maybe I am! How could I not be jealous when you're hanging out with a literal goddess?!" 

--and Clark had only been with women before he started dating Bruce--

Oh.

No.

Clark is jealous because--

Bruce's jaw clenches and his nostrils flare. He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore--it's all stream of consciousness. "If you're so desperate for a beautiful woman, why don't you go back to Lois?" His tone is cruel.

Clark barks out a laugh and smiles darkly. It sends a shiver down Bruce's spine and his blood runs cold as his deep, long-thought-of suspicion is confirmed.

"Gladly."

--because Diana is with Lois, now. Because Diana and Lois had started bonding (probably even falling in love) before Clark came back from the dead.

Because his first choice was stolen from him by someone with incomparable beauty. Because he thought he didn't have another chance. 

Because when Diana started spending more time with Bruce (and that was merely to keep pestering Bruce to ask Clark to marry him), Clark thought that his second choice was also falling for Diana. 

Chapter 11: All My Scars Are Open

Summary:

Bruce tries to figure out where it all went wrong.

Spoiler alert: He doesn't.

Notes:

**Warning: Mention of dead parents. It's brief, but kind of grim, so I just wanted to give a warning!

Ahh I can't believe we are at the end of Part 2! Thank you again to everyone for reading, leaving kudos, and commenting!! I wanted to get this chapter out sooner but I'm helping out with a show so that took up my whole weekend. Dx My head is still kind of in show-mode so please forgive me if this isn't angsty enough. I'll probably come back and edit it later but I had some muse and didn't want to lose it!

The title is lyrics from James Arthur's "Impossible."

Also, I feel like I kept writing "the first time in a long time," or some variation, but there are a lot of parallels with how Bruce is feeling now to how he felt when his parents died.

"You actually thought that..." Clark's voice echoes through his head. Bruce sits on a side road, having left the farm almost immediately after Clark left. Bruce wouldn't have been able to explain what happened if Martha had returned and seen Bruce standing alone in the field. The warm glow of the Kansas sunset has been taken over by the cold blackness of night. It should be more familiar, should make him feel more secure and at home, but it doesn't. Instead, it enhances his loneliness. His first experience with feeling alone in the night happened when he was five years old, but his mother had been there to hold him and assure him that everything would be okay because she was with him. The second time he experienced the chilly isolation of the night, he was eight years old and shivering on the street, unable to tear his eyes away from the bodies of his parents. Commissioner Gordon had tried his best to console him, but what could be said to a child who just had his whole world ripped away from him? Knowing that Alfred was going to care for him helped him a little, but even the wise butler knew that he could never replace Bruce's parents.

Although, he came close. Bruce now looks at Alfred like a father––he has for years now. Suddenly, Bruce is aware that he's shaking again. He grabs the steering wheel and tightens his grip, feels the leather digging into his skin. How is he going to explain this to Alfred? This is one of the rare times that Bruce won't feel some satisfaction in telling Alfred that he was wrong about Clark.

He almost laughs as he takes a moment to look at the situation he's in. Heartbroken and dumped, alone in his car in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night. The only cliche missing is the rain. 

The clock lets him know that he's only been sitting there for an hour, but it felt like he'd been suspended in time––a moment of pain and paralyzing anxiety that wouldn't end. He takes a deep breath, starts up the car, and drives back to where the Batwing is parked. 

---

 

It's not safe, he knows that, but he flies home with his mind on auto-pilot. It's a brief reprieve from the thoughts and emotions swirling through his head, but the darkness never leaves him. He locks up the Batwing in the Manor and drives back to the Lakehouse, noting how the fog outside equals the one in his mind. The walk to the front door is filled with memories of coming back from dates with Clark––after Clark moved in. When he'd press Clark up against the door, or when Clark would press him against it--

"We're acting like teenagers,"  Clark smirks against Bruce's lips.

Bruce breathes in Clark's breath like it's the only thing keeping him alive. "You know we'd actually get in trouble if we woke Alfred up."

That specific memory is a punch to the gut and he stops in his tracks, needing to lean against the door to get his breath back. The few minutes of standing there and breathing only serve to drag him back into the realization of what he's lost. He's only pulled out of his rumination when he hears Alfred's voice the minute he opens the door. 

"I know you told me to not make a big deal out of this momentous occasion, but you know that I have been awaiting this day for a long--" Alfred comes around the corner carrying a cake but stops when he sees that Bruce is alone. The picture in front of Bruce is almost comical: Alfred is standing--like a deer in headlights--right under a banner that says "Finally! Congratulations!"

There's an awkward silence as Bruce lets Alfred work out what's wrong. It's okay that he didn't get it right away--Bruce didn't, either. 

"Master Wayne, what..." Ah, he still isn't processing it.

Bruce doesn't know what to say, so he just shrugs slightly and manages a tiny, wry smile. 

"Where's Master Kent?" The puzzle is slowly being pieced together. Bruce decides to help the older man out a little.

"For the first time in a long, long time, Alfred..." Bruce shrugs again as he takes a moment to gather his composure. "You were wrong."

Alfred is still standing there with his mouth slightly open, obviously in shock.

Bruce is losing his patience; the more he has to say this out loud, the more it hurts. "He said no."

Alfred steps back and almost drops the cake. He places it safely on the counter before turning back to Bruce. "He said what?"

Bruce doesn't want to repeat himself, and a look of bitter understanding appears on Alfred's face.

"Sir..."

"It's okay, Alfred." It's not. Of course, it's not okay. "He had both of us fooled. He even had Diana fooled." A bitter laugh escapes him. "All of those times she had the audacity to lecture me on my relationship-" He has to cut that thought off before he gets angry. The anger is there, boiling beneath the surface, but he's afraid what might happen if he lets himself go there. 

"I... don't know what to say." Alfred's voice is quiet, barely audible. Bruce hasn't seen Alfred this speechless, with such sorrow in his eyes, since the night the Waynes died.

"There's nothing to say. It is what it is. I deserve it--"

"Don't!" 

Bruce stops at the tone in Alfred's voice. The last time he heard that tone, he was ten years old and caught trying to scale the side of the manor.

"Don't you dare say that you deserve this. I've held my peace for so many years when I should have said something, but not this time. I will not let you stand there and demean yourself. I have no idea what's gotten into Master Kent, and no matter how much I want to ask you exactly what happened, that's not my business. But I think I am allowed this moment of anger for you."

Now it's Bruce's turn to be at a loss for words. He's never seen Alfred so furious. Oh, the man is doing an enviable job of maintaining his composure, but Bruce can see the fire in those gray-blue eyes and the white-knuckled fists tremoring at his sides. It's only his concern for the man's health that has Bruce able to speak again.

"Alfred--"

He takes half a step forward to try and tell him to calm down, but Alfred moves fast and pulls Bruce into a strong hug. Bruce freezes--not that this isn't unwelcome, but it's the first time Alfred has shown such affection in Bruce's adult life. The grip is strong, but Bruce isn't surprised. They stand there for a moment as Bruce relaxes and returns the gesture, allowing himself this moment of vulnerability. All of his anger has receded, leaving anguish in its wake. The pain makes him feel like he's a child again, all alone in the world. He squeezes his eyes shut to keep the tears back, but a few escape and hover on his lashes. 

When Alfred pulls away, he pats Bruce's shoulder and sniffs. "I wish I had an explanation."

"So do I," Bruce rasps.

"Do you need anything?" There's a regretful pause. "Shall I get the suit ready?"

"No." Bruce even surprises himself. A patrol around the city after a painful event usually sounds good, but Bruce is bone-weary. All he wants to do right now is crawl into bed. A small voice in his head calls him a coward, but he's even too tired to fight that. 

"I wouldn't be any good in a fight right now," he tries to justify. Alfred just gives him a look of understanding. "I just need to lie down and... I'll deal with it tomorrow." He's not sure what "it" means in this case...probably everything.

"I understand, Sir." Alfred doesn't say anything else. He doesn't tell Bruce that he thinks staying in for the night is a better idea than patroling, nor does he tell Bruce that he's glad he's staying in for once. 

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce pats the elder's arm and makes his way to his room. On his way, though, he remembers the ring in his pocket. He holds the box for a moment before putting it down on the counter. "I don't want it destroyed, but I can't look at it right now." With that, he goes to the bedroom. However, the minute he lies down he can smell Clark's scent on the pillows. His stomach turns and he blinks to try and get rid of the burning behind his eyes.

Down to the cot, then. He makes his way down to the cave and tries to get comfortable on the cot. However, he can't help but wish that he were back in the bed that held that sunshine scent. 

"The sooner I ignore these desires, the sooner I'll get over it," he lies to himself.

Notes:

I might be adding more to this, but I wanted to get something up for the weekend!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Little Do You Know