Chapter Text
Gotham’s horizon lit up with warm oranges and yellows as the sun prepared to disappear from sight as Clark Kent walked the slowed streets of the city. He was dressed in his normal attire for when he was on the job: a sweater vest, khakis, and a tie. He stood out like a sour thumb among the grayed-out streets. He rarely did come to Gotham and even more rarely while as his true identity. Superman though, he was no longer welcomed. The man that answered to the name Batman was the protector of the city and did not give light to strangers or, honestly, anyone entering his city without his permission. Clark remembered the first time he arrived in the city and how poorly it went. He thought he would never be allowed back in, but surprisingly, he slowly was welcomed. It was never a warm, happy welcome, but for the knight of Gotham, it certainly was warmer. His allowance to enter the city was no longer laced with annoyance, he even managed to laugh with the knight; to Clark, he thought he could consider Batman a friend, but something happened, things changed and no one was welcomed in Gotham. No matter the threat, the city's protector sealed their doors shut.
Clark to this day has never learned exactly what happened that night, but he has a smart guess. Out of all the friends they gained over the years, he figured if anyone the knight would trust, it would be him, but alas, when Superman went to check up on his friend he was meant with a fury he had never seen before. The person in front of him was no longer the same; the heart that normally ran steady was pumping loud and hard. Due to a lead-line suit, he could not see if the man had any broken bones; something he noticed changed after their first meeting, but with how the man was battered and covered in blood, he had a feeling that many things were broken. Yet the person in front of him stood tall and told him to leave; Clark did not recognize what was in front of him
After that meeting, the two kept their distance. Clark would scream at himself to help him, to ignore the protest, but he had no clue on what would help. He barely knew if the bat was a man, let alone what he needed to cope. So, Clark went without seeing Batman for a year despite his many requests to be let in. He would hover on the city border for nights, knowing the knight of Gotham was watching. He almost gave up hope until one night a small, unfamiliar voice within the city called for Superman, saying Batman needed help. Clark shuttered at the thought of that night as he rounded the corner. He was lucky that from there on, Batman seemed to improve. He sees the man now once a month for an annual meeting with fellow protectors of the world, but their relationship has never been the same and this is now the first time Clark has set foot within the city of Gotham since that night years ago.
The thoughts swarmed Clark, and he knew he had to leave the city. He normally would opt for public transportation, but the city's memories were too much, even for a man of steel. He peeled off into an empty alley and climbed up the first fire escape he saw. He figured it would look more normal to be swinging around on a fire escape rather than levitating, but this is Gotham. He reached the top and was welcomed with the bitter gust of cold wind laced with the pollution that Gotham was known for. He expected an empty roof but froze when a familiar figure sat at the ledge. A cape was spewed about as the familiar Batman’s head hung low. Clark didn’t dare move as he noticed something he had never seen before. The familiar cowl was gone and now sat to the side and Clark could make out slightly fluffy black hair that replaced where the cowl would normally be. He watched as the person he once called a friend let out a long sigh, his shoulder slightly shaking. Clark knew he fucked up because he could hear the sigh was filled with sadness. He had to leave; he could not be noticed by the other.
Clark took one step, retreating in the direction he came, but that set off the bat to grab his cowl, managing to put it on while spinning around to face Clark. Clark's eyes widened, but luckily for him, the protector of Gotham went from an alert stance to one of more at ease in the matter of seconds. Thoughts ran through his head. Did he recognize him? Why did he relax? He should have a batarang flung at his face by now.
“You’re not from here.” Was all that was said, leaving Clark in a state of shock; he knew he stuck out like a sore thumb, but was it really that obvious?
“How’d you know?” An awkward smile flashed across his face as he gripped the ladder he was still standing on. “You would’ve been gone or attacked.” Clark couldn't help but laugh. “Is that really the reason?” Clark felt a smile rest on his face; this was too familiar. The rooftop, the banter, him. It was bittersweet. Batman turned around, facing the sunset as Clark hesitantly took a step onto the roof. To anyone, it would seem the other was vulnerable; back turned, no longer paying attention, but Clark knew he was following exactly where the other was standing.
“Go home; it’s dangerous.” Clark knew that; everyone knew that about Gotham, but the sentence was just too familiar that Clark took a step forward. Batman instantly turned his head to the side, and the realization of him just being Clark Kent set in. To Batman, Clark was another random citizen and that the two have never met. A pit formed in his stomach as he tried to think of a reason for why he was still here.
“Mister Batman…sir. My name is Clark Kent, I work for the Daily Planet out in Metropolis... as a reporter and would love to ask you some questions.” In the best-case scenario, Batman would leave without a word. Pulling a move that in the past Clark was very familiar with, and worst would be Batman, the protector of Gotham, would actually say yes.
“Were you going up to random rooftops, looking for an interview… with me?” Clark blushed as he did have a point. “No…yes? No,” At this point, Clark had Batman's full attention. Clark sighed, before he remembered that these two identities have never met. To Batman Clark was a stranger, so why lie?
“I just needed to get away from everything. Too many memories here.” Clark just received a hum, which to anyone would be him brushing them off, but Clark knew him; they knew each other for a long time, and the thought of being thrown out killed him. People say it’s in Batman’s nature to want to be alone, but Clark knows there has to be something more than just that.
“My friend lives here,” he continued, “and we haven't really been speaking… I mean, I see him every month, but it's completely different now. He will barely have a conversation with me, and it’s only ever about work, and I know it's due to something terrible that happened to him, but he won't even tell me what exactly happened, and I tried to talk to him about it, but... It's just… it’s been three years.” Clark was now side by side with the bat and was staring directly at him, looking for anything and everything. For a flicker of quilt, sadness, or understanding, he would take anything, but the other stood forward, features emotionless. “I just want my friend back.”
Batman finally made eye contact with Clark; the protector of Gotham seemed to be scanning him. To take in why this random reporter from Metropolis would be opening up to him and spilling his thoughts. Clark was hoping for something a lot more than he knew he would receive. An eternity seemed to have passed before Batman looked back out into the horizon. Clark took the moment as well to admire the view, reminiscing on a similar time when they would do exactly this. Clark saw the sun completely disappear, street lights flashing on and not far away he could see a mural with a familiar set of primary colors splash across a wall. That's when it clicked—Robin died this week three years ago.
“Not everything needs to be talked about. He will come to you when he’s ready, not pressured.” In a second, Batman was gone. Clark listened as the familiar heartbeat got farther away, and he knew he was alone.
“I can be patient... I will not leave you.”
The next day Clark walked into work like every other day when he heard the news that the prince of Gotham, billionaire Bruce Wayne, has purchased the Daily Planet and will be hosting a gala at the end of the week to celebrate, and everyone is required to attend.