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Clark was thankful he finally got Bruce settled in his bed after the night's attacks. Both Oracle and Nightwing thought it was best if Robin, Batgirl, and Signal stayed at their place given how shaken up Bruce still was. Bruce knew he had no leg to stand on to try and convince everyone he was okay given he hadn’t stopped crying all night. It’s one thing for Batman to be kidnapped and have fear gas forced upon him. It’s another for Bruce Wayne to be held hostage at a Gala and have the toxin injected directly into his bloodstream via syringe every five minutes while Scarecrow laughed in the background and kept him tied up and screaming. The direct chemical traveling through Bruce’s circulatory system was unlike anything he had experienced in the past. With the fear gas there was always something in the back of Bruce’s mind that told him it wasn’t real and kept him grounded. Being subjected to the actual undiluted substance made the hallucinations much clearer and coherent. He could taste the smoke and fire as flames engulfed the city around him. He felt every one of his bones break as he was beaten up by all his rogues at once. He could feel the blood splatter onto his face and chest as children were brutally tortured in front of him and left begging for death. He could hear every scream from his family crystal clear in his ears as they kept shouting out for his help that he was unable to give them.
Bruce was injected six separate times before anyone could get to him. As soon as his hands were untied he began to fight his family with his mind clouded from fear. Oracle told them to back off and had to call in Superman from another country from how terrified they all were that he might actually kill one of them. Superman restrained his boyfriend of one week while he continued to cry, sob, and fight against him in his arms. The fear toxin didn’t fully leave his system even after Leslie managed to mostly flush it out of his veins and give him the antidote. Not even the restraints on the hospital bed could keep Bruce down and Superman had to hold him the entire time just to keep him from throwing punches at anyone who was within arms reach. Leslie almost sedated him but she didn’t want to risk it given she had no idea how it would react with the fear toxin. His torture lasted over an hour and a half and Bruce was completely exhausted after but unable to rest. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t stop crying and the adrenaline rush in him wouldn’t die down. He was shaking completely, unable to get the images of his children being skinned alive, acid burning through their flesh, faces peeling off, and even worse events Bruce didn’t want to think about kept popping up in his head, restarting the panic attack all over.
Clark had come back from the kitchen with water to find Bruce on the edge of the bed with his hands covering his ears, trembling, and hyperventilating. Clark announced his presence by making his footsteps purposefully louder and louder so as not to startle him more than he was. “Hey, B,” he said gently, holding up the water. “I got you a drink like you asked.”
Bruce didn’t appear to hear him at all as he watched tear drops fall onto his pants leaving a small water stain behind. Clark got down on the floor to try and make eye contact but saw Bruce’s eyes were shut tight. Clark knew better than to touch someone having a panic attack and placed the water on the nightstand next to him with a careful clink in hopes it would alert Bruce to his presence. Somehow it worked and Bruce opened his eyes and stared right through Clark with wide, watery eyes.
“Fuck,” Bruce whispered.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Clark reassured him. “You had a hard night. But it’s okay now, you’re safe, okay?”
Bruce shook his head and held his breath in an attempt to get his breathing back to normal. He quickly let it out, just making him more frustrated at himself. “Fucking shit,” he cursed, desperately trying to relax. “I was fucking fine a second ago and… fuccckkkk.”
“I know you’re not really an ‘emotions’ guy, but this is pretty normal after a panic attack,” Clark reassured. “Jon and Kara get them all the time. It’s really easy to get worked back up, but it will pass, I promise.”
Bruce clenched his teeth and shut his eyes again, his hands still not off his ears as the sound of Damian begging for him to make the pain go away after both his arms had been ripped off by Bane kept echoing in his head. “I want it to stop now,” he said through clenched teeth, more tears falling out.
“You’re also not a very patient person,” Clark tried to joke. “But you just have to let this run its course. I’m sure some of the fear toxin is still in you- the anecdote was really only made for the gas and not whatever the hell he did to you tonight.”
Bruce shook the image of Stephanie being beaten to a pulp, trying to drag her mangled body away from her dad who did it only to plead with him when caught, out of his mind. “It wasn’t even real. This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t… shouldn’t be… I…” he found himself unable to get a breath in as he kept hyperventilating. Bruce clutched at his chest and throat trying to clear whatever obstacle was getting in the way only to be confused when there wasn’t anything other than his own mind.
“Hey, B, breathe, just breathe, okay?” Clark imitated for Bruce what he needed to do. “All the way in and all the way out just-“ he did it again.
It took Bruce’s lungs a second to cooperate with what his head was telling him to do. The next time Clark breathed in, Bruce poorly copied him, taking shaky breaths in and letting it all out instantly.
“Good, come on, again,” Clark instructed.
Bruce took in several rapid breaths before shakily filling his lungs and holding it for a second and forcing himself to slowly let it out. He repeated the steps again, concentrating on only Clark breathing and trying to match it perfectly.
“There we go,” Clark encouraged. “We’re getting there!”
Bruce took a deep breath in and out again on his own. He thought he had finally gotten everything settled when he suddenly saw Tim in front of him having his eyes gouged out with a knife and his fingernails being ripped out one by one as he screamed Batman’s name for help. Bruce tensed up again and started grabbing at his hair. Without realizing, he fell onto Clark in front of him and started sobbing into him. Bruce wrapped his arm around Clark's shoulder, pulling him in tight for support.
Clark was completely taken aback, knowing Bruce wasn’t much of a hugger even after they got together. Clark wasn’t sure if it would be better or worse if he wrapped his arms around him as well. He started with just the one arm and when Bruce didn’t seem to mind he pulled him in for a full hug. He patiently rubbed his back to try and calm him down. “It’s okay,” Clark comforted. “I got you, B. Nothing’s going to happen while I’m here, alright?”
Bruce swallowed gulps of air and shook his head. “No, I… I couldn’t save them, Clark,” he cried. “I know it was fake and I’m an idiot for still being so worked up over it but…” he trailed off and kept sobbing.
“You are the furthest thing from an idiot,” Clark consoled. “Imagine if Dick or Jason was in your position. Would you think they were stupid for still being upset?”
Bruce shook his head and gathered enough breath in to speak again. “You don’t understand, Clark. I…don’t… get like this. I don’t… get scared to-to the p-point of tears,” he stammered out. “Fuck… I’m-I’m sorry… you have to see me… like this.”
“It’s okay, completely forgiven,” Clark reassured. “Do not even worry about it at all, B.”
Bruce shut his eyes tight remembering why Clark was seeing him like this. Though, it's not like his kids seeing him like this would have been any better. He assumed that if they couldn’t get Clark, Dick and Barbara would have been the ones here instead, which he wasn’t sure if that would make him more or less uncomfortable as they have seen him break down more times than anyone else still living. In a moment of vulnerability, he wished Alfred was there instead and the reminder of his death made him sob more. “I can’t believe I hurt them…” Bruce sniffled.
“I'm positive your kids understand and don’t think it was on purpose.”
Bruce cringed thinking about what if he managed to actually harm his kids. Before he could dwell on it, another image flashed into his mind, this time of Duke with several spears sticking straight out of him and a faceless being jabbing another one in as he gasped out for breath. “D-Dammit. Dammit!” Bruce cursed. “They won’t fucking stop.”
“What doesn’t stop?” Clark asked patiently.
“The fucking flashes… hallucinations or whatever. They keep popping up in my head and I can’t get them to stop.”
“Okay…” Clark trailed off. Bruce was usually the solution guy while Clark was more of a follow-whatever-Batman-says kind of guy. He thought about the steps Bruce usually took to get to a conclusion. The first step was gathering information. “Are they as clear as they were before?”
Bruce shook his head, tensing up and then trembling as another one seemed to appear in his mind. “God dammit.” He sobbed, pushing his head into Clark's shoulder more as if to hide from it.
“Do they actually feel real? Like can you reach out and touch whatever you’re seeing or can you smell whatever is around you?”
Bruce shook his head again. He licked his lips and completely unhooked himself from around Clark’s arm, pulling it in and trying to be as small as possible. Clark’s heart shattered. Before tonight he couldn’t be sure if he even saw Bruce be scared before, let alone completely terrified enough to have a full panic attack. Clark was only grateful that what scared him wasn’t real. The problem instead was own mind had created his worst nightmares directly in front of his eyes.
Bruce took a shaky breath in to try and speak again. It came out so quiet that even with his super-hearing Clark had to strain to hear him. “It’s just an image… but I can hear it too.”
Clark went to speak, but the distinct sound of a collar came jingling into the room. Ace immediately walked up to great Clark with his wet nose and then walked over to Bruce. Bruce gave the dog a small smile. “Hi, buddy,” he whispered.
“Look at that,” Clark said with a small smile. “Looks like someone came over to help.”
Ace leaned up against his owner, able to sense the anxiety radiating off of him. He shoved his nose in between Clark’s and Bruce’s chest to force Bruce’s hands to be on him. Alfred and Bruce had trained him to detect a panic attack in his family and then assist with the process. He guessed it was now his turn to see how much Ace helps.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Bruce said hoarsely. Bruce did as the dog requested, putting his hands on his head and subconsciously petting behind his ears while Ace sat calmly.
“Good boy, Ace,” Clark told him, patting him on the back. Even for the few seconds the German Shepherd had been there, Clark could see how much he had been helping. Bruce was only half heartedly petting the dog, but wasn’t nearly as tense having his animal companion next to him.
Clark was glad Ace came in for several reasons, but one being he believed he would come up with a solution. “Next time one of those flashes happen, just look at Ace, push his face into the forefront of your mind. Remind yourself that he’s what’s really here, not whatever you're seeing. You can feel Ace’s fur but not whatever is in your head.”
Bruce nodded and sniffled. “Hey, buddy,” he whispered again to his dog. “Who’s a good boy, huh?”
Ace opened his mouth and yawned in response, laying down on Bruce’s knee and closing his eyes. It seemed like Bruce and Clark had interrupted his nap.
Having something to focus on was tremendously helpful, not that Clark wasn’t. Feeling Ace’s fur in his hands helped to ground Bruce with each scratch of his head. He felt his heart rate go down as he did, the idea that this creature who he couldn’t communicate much with was trying to support Bruce comforted him more.
It wasn’t long, however, before Barbara and Jason’s screams of terror popped into his mind as Joker poured gasoline on their burning bodies. Bruce tensed up and almost closed his eyes, but heard Clark say “what’s Ace doing?” as a gentle reminder of what he should be focused on. Bruce swallowed and kept petting his dog, grabbing his ears in his hands and gently rubbing the outside of them. Bruce’s mouth twitched up in a smile when he saw Ace’s tail start to wag excitedly. The sounds of terror slowly faded out, replaced instead by Ace’s tail thumping on the floor.
Clark was rubbing Bruce’s back absentmindedly. “He is a very good dog. I hesitate to say better than Krypto,” Clark said
Bruce sniffled and wiped his nose with his arm as casually as he could. “Oh yeah?”
“Well, I’ve never heard any stories of Ace peeing on the carpet or eating furniture. Krypto is loyal, but the dumbest dog I’ve ever met.”
Bruce smiled a small bit and sniffed again. “I don’t disagree. Your dog has knocked me over at least… Every time I’ve met him.”
Clark laughed. “Never have been able to train the strength out of him.”
“Ace over here,” Bruce started to explain, now leaning forward and patting the dog’s back, “was trained by the best in the world.”
“Oh? Who? Some random person from India you flew out for a month?”
“No. Me,” Bruce joked with as much personality as he could in that moment.
This genuinely made Clark laugh, caught so off guard he laid his forehead on Bruce’s shoulder while chuckling. The sound of Clark’s laughter made Bruce’s heart surge and his heart rate lower dramatically. “Fuck, I don’t know why I expected you to say someone different, B.”
Bruce smirked at him for half a second before taking a deep breath in and yawning loudly.
“Tired?” Clark teased, already knowing the answer.
Bruce laid his head on Clark’s chest in response. “Next time your heart rate is over 120 for two hours, I’d like to see how you feel.”
“I can’t imagine that’s very comfortable.”
Bruce shook his head. “Typically with fear gas if I can get it to lower back to normal I can at least go about my day.”
“And by go about your day you mean beat the snot out of Crane?”
“Well that and ignore the effects of the gas. I can’t seem to get it to go-“ Bruce flinched as another hallucination popped in his head. Ace adjusted at the same moment so Bruce was forced to keep his hands on him and not have them flying to cover his head. As a result, this one faded much faster than the others had, but still left Bruce hyperventilating.
Clark started rubbing his back again and gently shushing him as tears began to refall down. “Hey, hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
Bruce was panting but he nodded wordlessly, focusing on the coarse fur of his sweet, obedient dog that loved him so much he was trying to make him feel better. His breathing went back to normal within the minute.
Clark hesitated, watching Bruce’s determination to not get worked up again, but still went to say, “can I ask… what did you see just now? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I just am curious… well…”
“What would terrify Batman to the point of tears?” Bruce supplied.
“Yeah…”
Bruce took a deep breath in and heavily sighed. “It was Dick and Cass begging for mercy as their skin was being ripped off by a knife wielding psychopath.”
Clark’s jaw dropped. “Oh my, Bruce, I wasn’t… I thought it was like spiders or something-“
Bruce shook his head, “that’s all I saw and heard all night. It was all of them being tortured in different ways. It wasn’t just the sounds earlier, it was the smell, and the taste of smoke, and all of them calling out for me to help them… when I… when I just… couldn’t.” Tears welled up in Bruce’s eyes again and he wiped them with his shirt. He laughed bitterly. “I know it’s not real and everyone is safe in Blüdhaven but… that’s the thing with that poison. It convinces you it’s real. The image is one thing, but the sounds. Fuck. You can only hear ‘Batman, please help me’ so many times before you feel helpless.”
“That’s horrible and terrifying. There’s not much else I can say,” Clark validated his feelings. “But… I mean… just know your family is more than capable of getting themselves out of any tough situation. You’ve trained them enough. And if they can’t, at no point is it ever your fault. It’s the fault of the guys who hurt them in the first place.”
Bruce vaguely nodded as this wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like this being said. He believed it just as much as the other thousands of times, but appreciated the sentiment.
They sat in silence for a while, with the occasional flash from Bruce making him tense up. Bruce assumed he’d have to let the fear toxin just run its course. For a typically stoic man, he had felt more emotions in two hours than he had the last two weeks. In between visions, Bruce was yawning and nodding off. Eventually, the warmth of Ace on his lap, Clark rubbing his back, and being completely emotionally drained caused Bruce to fall asleep on his bedroom floor. It wasn’t until he started snoring lightly for Clark to notice he drifted off, believing him to just be concentrating in silence as he was known to do.
Clark smiled at his new boyfriend on his shoulder, unable to resist kissing him on his head. Seeing Batman uncharacteristically vulnerable both hurt Clark as much as comforted him. The idea that he was one of the few people on this planet that had seen Bruce in this state was an honor he couldn’t quite explain. Bruce felt safe enough around him to let his guard down to cry and then fall asleep on him right after, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage of him in this state.
Ace perked up with the sound of the kiss and sat fully.
“What do you think, boy?” Clark asked him. “Should I put him to bed?”
Ace just panted happily.
Clark slowly and carefully got his arms under Bruce to carry him bridal style the few short steps. Clark had to awkwardly pull back the sheets to which Ace apparently knew how to do, grabbing the ends with his mouth and crudely throwing it back.
“Thank you,” Clark chuckled, putting Bruce down on the bed and tucking him in.
It was at this point that Bruce stirred and blinked his eyes open, mumbling incoherently something Clark somehow understood to be “what time is it?”
Clark smiled at him. “It’s not even 1am. You were only out for a few minutes.”
Bruce mumbled “okay” as a response while Clark continued to tuck him in.
“Is Ace allowed in here when you sleep?”
Bruce vaguely lifted his head up. “Hm? Oh yeah. Ace, bed,” he commanded sleepily.
Without hesitation, Ace hopped up on the bed, laying at the very end and curling up into a ball. Bruce could barely keep his eyes open and nodded back off. Clark gave him a kiss on the forehead before telling him “goodnight” and clicked the light to turn off, walking away to the door.
Bruce squinted at him. “Wher-r-you-goin’?” He muttered out as one word.
Clark pointed confused at the door. “Guest bedroom?”
Bruce sniffed at him, taking a second to process what he said before grunting a negative sounding “mm-mn” and slapping the empty space beside him on the bed twice with his eyes closed. Clark smirked and did as told, climbing in beside him. By the time Clark got settled, Bruce and Ace were already passed out. Clark doubted that Bruce would even remember inviting him to share the bed, but didn’t think he would mind. Clark was mildly surprised to find himself exhausted. A part of him contributed it to the mattress that was probably more than his month's rent, but the other was the quiet, even snoring of Bruce beside him. It wasn’t loud enough to jolt him awake, but was soft and sounded like a synonym for sleep.
Clark closed his eyes for what he thought would be a second and ended up being around an hour. He woke up to something hitting his legs that at first his thought was Krypto jumping on his bed. He went to tell him to lay down before he was kicked again and woke up fully to see Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed and fists jabbing under the sheets. Clark rubbed his eyes and felt another kick in the shin. It didn’t hurt because 1) he was Superman, and 2) Bruce was getting caught up in the sheets and not able to get any power behind it. Tears were streaming down his face again as Bruce was grunting and groaning, fighting some demon in his sleep. It was clear he was losing- bad.
“Hey, Bruce,” Clark whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. “Hey, wake up!”
The touch only frightened him more as he thrashed around onto his back and started muttering “get off of me” repeatedly, getting louder and loud until screaming “GET OFF OF ME!”
In a panic, Clark threw his hands back to take them off Bruce completely. Though now he was stuck. He could hear Bruce’s heartbeat was back at a dangerous level. Clark watched helplessly as Bruce thrashed and kicked and hit in his sleep. Eventually he rolled over to be on Clark’s chest. At first he was still trying to fight whatever was on him, hitting Clark with his fist. Even if Clark wasn’t Superman, it wouldn’t have hurt given his arms were even more tangled up in the comforter than his legs.
“Bruce, it’s just me…” Clark said, still not touching him with his hands.
“Get… off…” Bruce muttered, taking a deep breath in. His hyperventilating slowed as he adjusted himself on Clark, nuzzling into his chest so Bruce’s ear was near his heart.
“It’s just me, okay?” Clark whispered. “Just me, B. I’m not going to let anything hurt you…”
Bruce’s shoulders relaxed in his sleep, pulling himself closer. He moved his arms and head so Clark was effectively a giant pillow for Bruce to cuddle. “Kal…” Bruce mumbled in his sleep followed by a deep sigh.
It wasn’t long before Bruce was back into a completely peaceful slumber, completely content using Clark as a teddy bear. Clark smiled as he gently put his arms back down and rested them on Bruce’s back and head, running his hands through Bruce’s hair. Bruce hummed happily, a smile twitching in the corner of his mouth. Clark’s heart swelled, and it took everything in him not to lean down and kiss him or else risk waking him up. Clark leaned his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep, having pleasant dreams of showing Bruce the galaxy as he carried him in his arms.