that was then. this is now.

by What_They_Call_Me

Summary:

THEN
Clark had everything he could have wanted. He had Bruce and Bruce's kids.

NOW
Clark feels like he knows this Red Hood Character.

Notes:

I have been having a lot of feelings recently.

EDIT: I added a few new sections to the THEN chapter. I also made a third chapter which is the stories combined. I personally liked it better alternating between THEN and NOW, but I know some people might prefer a more linear narrative.

Chapter 1: THEN

THEN 

Clark age 29 

 

“Superman!” The child shouts. It is an excited squeal, as Robin throws himself off a three story building.

Superman floats up and catches an arm full of Robin. He hears Batman and Nightwing both yell for the younger boy. But Superman mostly hears Robin’s laughter. It is wild and magical.

Superman holds Robin close to him, inhaling his scent in that moment. Jason is a petulant child, only doling out affection when he wants to. Not that Clark blames him. Still, Clark savors every second that Jason allows this close comfort.

“Did ya miss me Robin?” Superman asks. He missed Robin, he missed them all. Two weeks away on a league mission was far too long.

“Course I did.” Robin says easily, but the words make Superman’s heart soar, “B isn’t the same when he can’t talk to you.”

Superman rises more, depositing Robin back onto the roof of the building. Batman is frowning at the two of them, and Nightwing seems to be trying to do the same, but he can’t school his face to be angry. 

“Robin.” Batman starts his voice firm and his lips pressed into a line. But Superman can hear the amusement in his tone, the lightness in his heart beat.

“What Old Man?” Robin asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a problem with me greeting Superman?”

Batman is gritting his teeth, especially when Nightwing comes over to Superman and pulls him into a deep hug. Superman inhales Nightwing as well, feels his heart beat and knows his children – Not his children! Bruce’s kids – are safe.

“Of course I don’t have a problem with you greeting Superman.” Batman replies tightly. “I just don’t want you jumping off buildings.”

Superman smiles at Batman, and is greeted by a tight lipped smile. It isn’t much, but the rest will be saved for the manor, away from Gotham’s watchful eye, and away from the eyes of the kids.

Robin waves off Batman’s worries. As if Batman told him off for having too much sugar, not for jumping off a building.

“Come on,” Jason laughs, “Supes always catches me.”

 

THEN

Clark age 31

 

“Remind me never to sign up for an extended space mission again.” Dick says stretching as they exit the shuttle pod. Back onto the Watch Tower. They are minutes away from home. Clark can’t wait to kiss Bruce, to ruffle Jason’s hair and mostly to sleep in a bed that is made for his size.

“You have no room to talk.” Clark says with a laugh, “Remind me never to sign up as the chaperone for a group of teens on an extended space mission again.”

Dick laughs.

They get to the zeta tube, and Dick punches in the code to the Batcave.

They arrived home two days earlier than they had expected, March 28th. Clark grins thinking about how Jason will jump up and pretend like he didn’t miss them. He thinks how Bruce will press a kiss that tastes like coffee to his lips and tell Clark he missed him. He thinks about how he will show Bruce how much he missed him later tonight.

Clark goes through the zeta tube.

Recognized: Superman 

The automated voice calls out his arrival to the cave. Clark expects Jason to bound up, he expects Bruce to smile and wink at him, he expects Alfred to say something very British.

He doesn’t expect the oppressive nature of the cave. When he enters it feels like it is choking him.

Something is wrong. Clark’s body screams at him. 

He closes his eyes and he listens. The house has two heart beats. Only two.

No! Clark almost falls to his knees. He wants to scream to cry. Bruce is dead! That is why the cave is oppressive, Bruce is dead, the love of his life is dead.

Recognized: Nightwing

The automated voice echoes through the emptiness of the cave.

Dick’s grin falls as soon as he sees Clark’s face. That lazy contentment of a well done mission was replaced with apprehension. Clark wants to protect him from whatever awaits them upstairs.

“Clark?” Dick asks, and when Clark looks at him he sees the kid 11 year old kid that came into his life when he started dating Bruce. 

“It’s going to be okay Dick.” Clark promises, but it is a hollow promise.

Because there are only two heartbeats upstairs.

They leave the cave and find Alfred in the kitchen. The butler is actually crying, well more like sniveling, as he prepares tea. Clark is shocked, he always thought Alfred was too English for emotions.

Dick is stiff behind him.

“Oh,” Alfred says when he sees them, blinking as if surprised that they would be here, “I see it’s the 30th.”

Because they were supposed to return on the 30th. Except the mission ended two days early. 

“Alfred?” Dick asks, his voice shaking. “What happened?”

Alfred presses a hand to his mouth. Clark listens to only two heart beats.

“I am so sorry Master Dick.” Alfred starts, but cuts himself off with emotions thick in his voice. Dick reaches out, but his hand stops in the air. Instead he grabs for Clark’s arm. Clark takes is.

There are footsteps behind them. Clark frowns, because this is wrong. The footstep treads are too heavy to be Jason. 

But that doesn’t make sense, because Bruce is dead.

Bruce has to be dead.

Clark might lose the love of his life if Bruce is dead, but if it isn’t Bruce that is dead…

The thought is too much to bear. Because if Bruce is dead that is a terrible tragedy, but Clark can live. He will live on for the boys. If it isn’t Bruce who is dead, the mere thought is too much. Because it will irrevocably break something in Clark.

Still, Clark turns around.

Bruce is standing in the doorway, bags under his eyes. He looks pale and tired. He looks dead inside.

Clark crumbles.

Jason had jumped, and Clark hadn’t caught him.

 

THEN

Clark age 28

Superman isn’t supposed to be in Gotham without express permission from Batman, but Superman hasn’t seen Batman weeks. Sure they talk on the phone, but Bruce is cagey when they talk. And Clark misses his boyfriend.

Both Bruce and Batman have been busy the past couple of weeks. And Clark is trying to give Bruce space, because his only son moved out to university and Bruce doesn’t handle emotions well. But there is only so long Clark can go without cuddles.

So he figures it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to fly around Gotham to see if Batman needed help and then maybe ask him out on a date that doesn’t involve crime fighting. One that can safely end at the manor since there is no kid at home.

He sees a cape flutter in the distance, perching down on a rooftop.

Superman grins, flying over to the shape. 

He was hoping for Batman, but what he finds is Robin. A Robin that is considerably younger then the one he is used to. Superman actually shakes his head to make sure the kid is really a kid, and Superman isn’t just over tired.

But no, there is a child hunched on the roof smoking a cigarette in full Robin uniform.

The kid sees Superman before he can think of something to say.

“Don’t blab to B.” Robin says quickly, snuffing the cigarette out of the roof. He looks nervous, wide eyes dashing around, “I promise I haven’t been doing that shit anymore. This was the first time on patrol ever.”

The kid is lying. Badly lying.

But Superman still isn't sure who the kid is.

“Relax,” Superman says placatedly, “Batman doesn’t have to hear about this. As long as you promise it is the last time you smoke.”

New Robin nods vigorously. Superman doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Thanks Clark – Shit I mean Superman. Sorry I am still getting used to this whole codename thing.”

“You know who I am?” Superman says in surprise. So this new Robin is legit, Superman had half convinced himself it was just a kid dressing up.

“Sure, B has talked about you.” Robin waves off, “Says you’ll be coming around because you're his boyfriend, but you won’t come over until I’m ready to meet you. Which is ridiculous, because I told B that it is his house and he can have whoever he wants over.”

“Boyfriend? He used that term?” Superman asked. Because Superman considered them together. They had been dating for about a year. Clark went to Dick’s gymnastics meets and his basketball games. But Bruce never used the term boyfriends.

Robin pretends to gag.

“Ugh you’re as bad as he is. Mooning after each other. Just save it for when I’m asleep.”

That was when Batman arrived on the rooftop. 

“Robin. What have I said about leaving crime scenes without me?” Batman asks gruffly, not even looking at Superman.

“That I shouldn’t go off alone . But I wasn’t alone, I was with Superman.” Robin points to Superman as if proving a point.

Superman raises a brow at Batman, “Hi honey, is there something you forgot to tell me about?”

 

THEN

Clark age 29

 

Jason is outside Clark’s study. It isn’t really Clark’s study. It is the room that Bruce let’s Clark work in when he is at the manor. And if it is decorated to Clark’s tastes with Clark's first published article framed on the wall, well Clark doesn’t mention it.

Clark waits for Jason to come into the room. 

The kid has been pacing back and forth down the hallway for about 30 minutes now. 

Finally Jason seems to pluck up the courage to knock on the office door. Clark smiles, “Come on in.”

Jason comes with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Jason has been in the Wayne household for about a year at this point. He is getting formally adopted by Bruce in a few short weeks. And yet Jason looks very unsure of himself in this space.

“Hey Jason, what can I do for you?” Clark asks.

Jason mumbles something too fast and too quiet for even Clark’s super hearing to pick up.

“ What? ”

Jason looks up, his blue eyes blazing with fire. Clark waits.

“I said,” Jason huffs trying again, “that I want you to be at this whole adoption thing.”

Clark isn’t expecting it. 

Jason’s adoption is something that Bruce has been so excited for, but he has left all the details to Jason. Jason is choosing who is going to be there, Jason is choosing where they are going to go to dinner after. It is Jason’s day. And Jason made it very clear he wants family only.

Family, meaning Bruce, Alfred and Dick. Not Clark, despite how Clark yearns to be a member of the family. 

“I am sorry, I don’t understand-”

Jason huffs, “I thought you were supposed to be smart. I said I want you to come to the whole adoption thing Pops.”

All the words are amazing, Jason wants him. Jason wants him there. Jason called him Pops .

“I thought you just wanted family there?” Clark says dumbly. Then he adds quickly, “Jason I don’t want you to think you have to invite me anywhere.”

Jason kicks at the floor. His face is bright red, and anger burns in his eyes.

“If you don’t want to come you don’t have to.” Jason says. 

Oh. It isn’t anger, Clark realizes. It is humiliation.

Jason thinks Clark doesn’t want to come.

Clark stands immediately, because Jason thinking that simply won’t do. He comes over to Jason, he doesn't touch the kid. Even if he wants to gather him into a hug.

“Jason there is nothing I want more than to be there to celebrate with you. If that is truly what you want.”

Jason shrugs, “‘Course I want you round. You’re family too.”

THEN

Clark age 32

 

“I can’t watch you kill yourself!” Clark yells, his voice breaking on every word. He can’t. He has already lost Jason, and he can feel their relationship cracking under the pressure. Clark can’t lose this, can’t lose him too.

“Then don’t look.” Bruce hisses out, his voice dangerous.

Clark steps back, like he was slapped. He feels like he might have been.

Tears sting at his eyes as he stares at the man he loves. The man who is tearing himself apart to be put in the ground next to his son.

“You still have people who love you here. You have Dick, you have Alfred, and you have me!” Clark says.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that I have to keep living because I have another son to keep safe? I know Clark, and I will keep living, but I don’t want to. Not anymore. It isn’t really a life worth living if Jason isn’t in it.”

Clark hates Bruce at that moment.

“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about themselves.” Clark whispers. 

As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back. He wants to curl around Bruce and give him his heart, and wants to protect him from everything terrible in this world. 

But he also wants to be with someone who wants to be alive.

“Then I guess we can’t be together anymore.”

Clark leaves the cave. His left hand feels naked.

 

THEN

Clark age 30

 

Clark doesn’t hear them. He doesn’t even hear the door open. It is because the Wayne boys register as family, Clark is so hyper aware of them, but also painfully oblivious to them.

He honestly isn’t expecting it when Dick dive bombs onto Clark’s childhood bed with Clark still in it.

Clark shoots up, suddenly very awake.

Jason is cackling with laughter. Bruce is watching with amusement on his lips. And Dick who is 20 now and much too old to be jumping on Clark’s bed is smiling innocently.

“What are you guys doing here?” Clark asks looking around his childhood room and feeling like it is lacking.

Bruce grew up in the manor, with opulence and riches everywhere. Clark is embarrassed that his old bedroom has a full bed instead of a king. The fact that the wallpaper is peeling in the corners of the room. Bruce deserves so much, and he still picks Clark every day.

“Clark, it’s your birthday .” Dick says as if it makes everything obvious.

“You’ve got to be with family on your birthday.” Jason says, his voice firm. 

Clark looks to Bruce, he finds his boyfriend grinning. It is warm and inviting. It seems like Bruce is asking him something. It cracks Clark’s heart open, he wants to shout and scream. Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Boys, why don’t you help Martha make the pancakes.” Bruce finally says.

Jason and Dick exchange a look. Dick gets a sly smile.

“Come on Jason, let’s leave them to kiss .” Dick says.

Jason pretends to gag, but leaves easily with Dick on his heels.

Bruce comes over to Clark and sits on the edge of his bed. He looks very out of place in his cream button-up and slacks in the wooden farm house. It is completely endearing.

Bruce leans down and presses a long lingering kiss to Clark’s lips. He tastes of the sun and of the future. Clark could kiss Bruce forever. Clark wants to kiss Bruce forever.

“Is it okay that we came here?” Bruce asks, uncharetiteristically unsure of himself.

“More than okay.” Clark confirms, kissing Bruce again, “You’ve got to be with family on your birthday.”

 

THEN 

Clark age 32

 

Clark is doing fine. He moved back to Metropolis and got an apartment that he likes (read: hates). He goes to lunch biweekly with Dick. He even has a relationship with Bruce’s new kid, as much of a relationship as one can have with your mentor’s ex-fiance. The tan-line on his left finger is almost gone.

Clark is doing fine.

But not today.

Today is Jason’s birthday. It is the first birthday that Jason won’t grow up on. Because Jason is stuck at 15. Jason didn’t get a chance to grow up and Clark hates that.

He stares at the ceiling for a long time, waits for it not to feel like a momentous task to get out of bed. 

It doesn’t get easier.

Clark had called out today. He had rented a car and drove a few towns over from Gotham last night, staying in a motel. Today he planned on going to Jason’s grave and then enjoying a chili dog. He planned on making it a good day.

It can’t be a good day though. Because Jason is dead.

Clark arrives at Jason's grave early. He planned it this way, because he is sure Bruce will also come today, but much later. Clark hasn’t seen Bruce since their last fight. He has seen Batman, has worked with Batman and had stilting awkward conversations in the field with him, but he hasn’t seen Bruce.

Jason’s grace is nice, and nice as a child’s grave can be. 

Clark doesn’t know if he wishes he had been there for the funeral, or if he is thankful he didn’t have to see them lower the boy into the ground.

It doesn’t matter now.

“Hey Jay.” Clark says stiffly. “I know I haven’t visited in a while.”

Clark had only visited once before. The day that he found out Jason was gone. He had come to the grave and used his x-ray vision to confirm. He had thrown up after seeing the boy he loved beaten so savagely.

Clark clears his throat and sits down facing the tombstone. He holds up a copy of Pride and Prejudice as a peace offer.

He pictures Jason’s scoff, pictures Jason’s eyes hungry for the book, just pictures Jason alive.

Clark reads.

He gets through three chapters when footsteps crunch behind him.

Clark doesn't turn, he knows that heart beat.

Dick.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here.” Dick says stiffly.

Clark and Bruce hadn’t meant to hurt Dick in their fall out. But Clark couldn’t seem to stop failing the boys he cares for. Because Dick was hurt. He never called Clark anymore. Clark sees how Dick is falling apart, just like Bruce, and just like Bruce Clark doesn’t know how to help.

“I was just reading to Jason. You want to stay and listen?”

Dick looks a little to the left of Clark, as if asking someone for permission. Clark chances a glance, but there is nothing there.

“Yeah, I’d love to listen.”

 

THEN 

Clark age 30

 

Jason and Dick are acting strange today. When the boys are acting strange it can mean anything from they had switched the salt and sugar bowls in the morning to they had successfully snuck into the pentagon. Dick keeps looking at him with a goofy smile on his face, and Jason keeps kicking Dick in the shin.

Normally, Bruce is the one to snap at Jason not to kick his brother, but Bruce is also off today.

Which leaves Clark to be the bad guy, telling Jason to stop.

Jason rolls his eyes but agrees to not kick Dick anymore. Until Dick stares at him dopeily again and the cycle repeats.

“Have you noticed the boys acting strange?” Clark asks Bruce as they dress in suits.

Honestly, Clark isn’t sure why they are dressing up. Sometimes Bruce forgets to tell Clark about events they have, and sometimes Bruce just likes to see Clark in a suit. Today seems to be the latter.

“I haven’t noticed anything.” Bruce replies, which is a lie. Clark knows it is a lie even without hearing the skip in Bruce’s heart beat. Because Bruce might be oblivious to lots of emotions, but he is highly attuned to the feelings of his boys. 

But Clark lets it go. If it is serious, he knows that Bruce would tell him.

Bruce takes him to a fancy restaurant in Gotham. It is in a sky scraper, overlooking the city. From above, Gotham almost looks beautiful.

The restaurant is empty besides them.

Clark’s heart hammers in his ears.

But Bruce simply looks over the menu and asks if Clark is feeling like red or white tonight.

The night is beautiful, they talk and laugh. And when dinner comes, an apple pie that looks completely out of place in this 5 Michelin star restaurant, Bruce slides a velvet box across the table.

Clark blinks at him.

“Well?” Bruce asks, raising a brow.

“Most people actually ask a question with the ring.” Clark counters, but his hands are shaking.

Bruce sighs as if he is being put out, but his nervous smile gives him away. 

“Clark Kent,” Bruce starts sending a shiver down Clark’s spine, “I am not good at this whole emotional thing. But you must know that you are one of the most important things in my life. And I want you there every day. With me and my children. I want to be with you.”

It is a bit of an awkward proposal, but Clark smiles brighter than the stars and sun.

“Well put the ring on!”

Bruce slides the most beautiful ring onto Clark’s left hand. Clark doesn’t mention how Bruce’s hands shake as he does it. Bruce doesn’t mention the happy shine of tears in Clark’s eyes.

When they stumble into the manor hours later, punch drunk and happy they find Jason waiting for them.

“You going to join the family right, Pops?” Jason asks.

And Clark has never felt more right. This is his family. 

“Yeah Jason. I am.”

 

THEN

Clark age 31

 

Jason and Bruce are fighting again. He can hear it when he comes home from work.

“Fuck you!” Jason screams right as Clark steps through the threshold.

“Watch your mouth.” Bruce says calmly. His voice is devoid of any emotion. Clark cringes, know that it will make Jason more upset.

“Or what? You’ll beat the bad words out of me?” Jason asks with a laugh, “Never worked when Willis did it.”

Clark sucks in a breath, horrified at what he just heard. Bruce does as well.

Clark finds them in the living room. Jason is glaring at Bruce, and Bruce is trying his best to appear calm.

“I think you both need to calm down.” Clark says upon seeing them.

Jason has a fire in his eyes. And Bruce? He looks like he has hurricanes in his mind.

“I don’t need to calm down!” Jason screams, “I am fine, and Bruce is being a jackass.”

Bruce is still looking lost, still staring at Jason. Clark knows he is imaging their little boy being beaten. Knows he is picturing Jason calling for help, Jason crying. Clark knows Bruce’s hands are clenched into tight fists and he is, not for the first time, imaging resurrecting Willis Todd just to kill him again. 

“Fine, then Bruce can go and be a jackass somewhere else.” Clark offers.

Bruce blinks at Clark, clearly wanting to argue. But Clark tilts his head.

Clark and Bruce read a bunch of parenting books recently. Books about dealing with teenage angst and helping children who had previously suffered from abuse. Bruce had taken careful notes in the margins, highlighting particular passages and showing them to Clark.

Clark remembers one very clearly, it says do not engage with the child if you are not emotionally in a good spot. And Bruce isn’t.

Bruce seems to read Clark’s thoughts and finally nods, slinking out of the room.

Jason throws himself on one of the couches with an angry huff.

Clark finds a chair a bit away. He doesn’t say anything, just sits in Jason’s presence.

After about 15 minutes Jason finally huffs, “He is being unreasonable. He wants me to leave the house.”

Clark is very sure that is not what Bruce was saying. But he turns to face Jason anyway.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he wants me to join some afterschool clubs and to start going out with people. He doesn’t want me here anymore.”

Clark wishes he could laugh. This entire conversation is about trying to get Jason hobbies? But he schools his expression to an open face of concern.

“Maybe he wants you to have more friends. Friends you could also invite here.” Clark offers, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“I don’t need new friends. I’ve got my family. I have Alfred, Dick and you. I don’t want to give you up.”

Clark’s heart still hammers when Jason calls him a part of the family.

“You don’t have to give anyone up in order to have friends.” Clark says, “Bruce just wants you to have everything.”

And it is true. If Bruce could give Jason or Dick the stars in the sky he would.

Jason shifts, uneasily.

“Then why does he have to say it like he wants me gone?”

Clark laughs, “Have you met Bruce? He says everything bluntly and hopes that you understand what you mean.”

Jason laughs too. He moves himself so he is sitting next to Clark. His head leans against Clark’s shoulder. Clark savors it, because Jason is fifteen, and will soon be too old and too cool to lean on Clark like this.

“Why d’ya got to go for six months? Bruce and I are gonna kill each while you and Dick are gone.” Jason bemoans.

“Cause the Teen Titans need a chaperone, and I’ve gotta watch out for Dick. I know you and Bruce will be perfectly fine without me.”

 

THEN

Clark age 33

 

Superman stands between Batman and the Joker.

He listens as the damned clown laughs and laughs. It makes Superman want to scream.

Batman is snarling at him, his hands balled into fists.

“Move Superman.” Batman growls.

Joker laughs louder.

“No.” Superman says firmly.

Batman is snarling, “He deserves to die. He killed Robin. Or did you forget?”

Bruce is saying it to hurt him, Clark knows that. It doesn’t stop it from hitting its mark. 

How dare Bruce say that to him. How dare Bruce act like Jason’s death didn’t completely ruin him too. While Clark wasn’t officially Jason’s dad, he still lost a son when Joker murdered the boy.

But Jason’s memory didn’t deserve to be tarnished by death. Robin was magic and to murder, even to murder this monster, would destroy that magic. And Jason deserves so much more then that.

Bruce does as well.

“We are not judge jury and executioner.” Superman says, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t get mad at Batman. He doesn’t scream at the joker. He doesn’t fall to his knees and try to tear at the aching hole in his chest. 

Batman lunges forward, trying to get past Superman.

Superman doesn’t let him.

“He wouldn’t want this.” Superman whispers, Batman hears him.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants.” Batman argues, “He’s dead.”

The joker is laughing louder.

“Don’t destroy his memory. Please Batman. Don’t kill for him. Robin doesn’t deserve that.”

Batman straightens, his spine going ramrod straight. Finally, he nods and turns away, leaving Superman with the man that killed his son.

The joker laughs louder. 

Clark isn’t a saint, so he punches the man in the face. The Joker looks better with blood pouring from his nose.

Chapter 2: NOW

NOW

Clark age 35: August

 

Gotham is on fire. 

Clark hears about it on the news. He knows vaguely, has listened to Bruce’s heart beat. He listens to Dick’s and even Tim’s as well, even though he hasn’t set foot back in the city since…

Clark grits his teeth and he goes to Gotham.

 

NOW

Always

 

Clark used to love sleeping. He used to love being curled up in Bruce’s embrace. He used to love the weightless feeling of dreams. He used to wake in the morning with a silly story about his dreams.

Since Jason’s – Since Jason Clark dreads sleeping.

He only has two dreams anymore.

The first is Jason, beat and swollen crawling through a warehouse. He sees the trail of blood as he drags himself on broken legs. He hears Jason cry out, hears him call for Bruce for Clark. He hears it in his dreams, and he hates that he didn’t hear it in real life.

When Clark wakes from that dream he has to stay in bed for long hours. In the emptiness of his apartment he listens for Dick first, then Tim, then Bruce, Ma, Pa and Alfred. He listens to their heart beats and lets himself focus on the fact that they are alive.

The second dream is Bruce. It is the life they almost had. With Jason and Dick and even Tim. Clark sees the wedding they had called off. He sees Jason moving out to college. He sees Bruce worry, hands running through black hair, and he kisses those worries away. He sees them happy.

When Clark wakes from that dream he cries. Crying doesn’t bring back that false life, but nothing can.

 

NOW 

Clark age 35: August

 

Superman arrives to Gotham in time to see Red Hood leaving a warehouse. 

Superman floats down in front of the villain. The name makes Clark’s skin itch. But he crosses his arms over his chest.

Red Hood actually looks surprised to see Superman.

“This isn’t your fight Boy Scout.” The Red Hood says, his voice hidden by a voice modulator, but Clark hears something familiar. He tries to look through the helmet, but it is lined with lead.

Gotham rogues, so paranoid.

“Where is Batman?” Superman says, instead of focusing on that familiar tone.

Superman already knows,  can hear him in the warehouse. But still he wants to hear Red Hood to say it.

Red Hood lets out a biting laugh. It sounds bitter and broken, Clark recognizes it in himself.

“The Bat” Red Hood spits out the name, “Is in there trying to save the fucking Joker.”

It seems Batman had misunderstood Superman’s message. Killing the Joker is wrong, getting revenge for the life that he had shattered, made them no better than a villain hell bent on their own revenge. But letting the Joker die? That was just nature taking course.

Superman needs to save Batman. The warehouse is billowing heavy smoke. But for some strange reason, he doesn’t want to leave the Red Hood. 

Superman nods once, and tears himself away from the rogue.

He finds Batman, the hero is giving Joker chest compressions. Superman watches as Batman breaks the Joker’s ribs. He hears the sickening crack.

“He can’t kill you.” Batman is muttering.

The Joker comes back to life, he comes back laughing.

“I knew you’d save me Batsy.”

Batman bares his teeth.

The warehouse creaks, fire licks at the entrance.

“Batman, we’ve got to move.” Superman forced himself to say even though his chest aches to see Batman again.

Batman looks up, surprised to see Superman here. And that hurts too.

Did Batman think that just because they weren’t together anymore he didn’t care? Because Clark cares, he cares so much he can’t get out of bed sometimes.

Superman grabs Batman and flies him back to the cave. Batman doesn’t argue much.

In the cave Dick and Tim are sitting by the computer, Alfred is already preparing medical supplies. Clark used to love the cave, used to love being here. But that was then.

Now Bruce has lined it with lead and made it so Clark can’t hear what is happening. Made it very clear that Clark doesn’t belong here anymore.

“B!” Dick is saying, running towards his father. Bruce removed the cowl. Clark sees the lines in his face, the salt and pepper at his temple. It makes Clark ache .

Bruce wraps a single arm around Dick, it isn’t a hug, not really.

Tim is watching the interaction with badly concealed want.

“Did you get him?” Dick asks with hope in his tone. Which doesn’t make sense. 

“No chum. I didn’t.”

 

NOW

Clark age 35: August

 

Tim and Dick are put to bed. It isn’t put quite like that, because Tim is 14 and Dick is 25. But Alfred ushers then from the cave. Clark stays as Bruce frantically tracks the Red Hood.

Clark stays, he watches as Bruce looks through all of the nearby cameras.

“He got out.” Clark says.

Bruce startles, like he didn’t realize that Clark was still here. 

“What?” Bruce asks carefully.

“The Red Hood, the man you are looking for. He escaped. I saw him.” Clark explains.

Bruce turns from the computer. He looks at Clark in a way that he hasn’t in four years. Bruce’s eyes are wide, a bit desperate. Almost like he is hungry.

But Clark is struck by the lines in Bruce’s face. He looks older, much more tired. 

“Did you speak with him?” Bruce asks, “Did you see where he was going?”

“We exchanged some words, but I was more focused on finding you.” Clark replies.

Bruce seems disappointed in this. His entire body caves in on itself. Clark is missing something here, something important. 

Then Bruce straightens up. 

“Your help was appreciated Superman.” Bruce says in his gruff Batman voice. Clark hates it, “But you are dismissed.”

Clark doesn’t fight it, just goes.

 

NOW

Clark age 35: September

 

Perry gives Clark a story on Gotham. It isn’t about Bruce Wayne – despite their engagement ending almost four years ago it is still a conflict of interest. No this story is about the buy out that Janus Cosmetics is doing with all the smaller brands in Gotham. It is more of a story for Cat, but she is out on some other assignment, and so Clark is asked to handle it.

When they left the briefing room Lois had caught Clark’s eye. “You okay?” she had asked.

Clark had nodded then. Now he regrets it.

Gotham greets him with it’s normal skies, heavy with rain. Clark hasn’t been in Gotham as Clark since Jason’s last birthday. The entire city feels like Jason’s grave, and stepping within it’s walls as Clark hurts him in a way he isn’t expecting.

He’ll visit Jason before he leaves. Clark promises himself.

But right now he is going to an interview with Roman Sionis. It is approaching 8pm when Clark arrives at Janus Industries. Sionis said the only time he was available was late in the day.

Clark is immediately shown to Mr. Sionis’ office. The man sits in his office, the Black Mask melted into his skin. It is disgusting, and Clark tries not to cringe while looking at it. Technically, Roman Sionis is out of Arkham, he is rehabilitated, but he still bears the marks of his former life.

It is a beautiful office, it overlooks downtown Gotham with floor to ceiling windows. The interior walls are frosted glass. A plush slate blue carpet covers the entire office. Mr. Sionis sits before a modern desk with carefully arranged nicknacks that make it feel more like someone staged it for a photoshoot then like someone’s work area.

“Hello Mr. Kent,” Ms. Sionis says cooly, “Thank you for agreeing to meet so late at night.”

“It is no trouble really.” Clark says immediately.

He asks the questions, properly vetted by Cat Grant. He is halfway through asking about monopolies in the cosmetic field when the sound of gunshots ring through the hallway.

Clark jumps immediately, his chair clattering to the ground. Mr. Sionis stands as well.

Shoot! Clark needs to change into his suit, but he can’t leave Sionis here alone. 

“What’s going on?” Clark asks, careful to sound nervous.

“Unexpected visitors.” Sionis says easily, but Clark can hear the uptick in his heart beat, he is nervous, “I do apologize Mr. Kent but it seems this meeting will have to be cut short.”

“We need to run.” Clark says, ready to grab Sionis by the arm and force him out.

A shadow crosses frosted glass walls. A shadow holding a gun.

Clark chances a look at the window, but they are at least 15 stories up, there is no way Sionis could survive the fall, unless Superman helped.

The frosted glass shatters, as a gun shot echoes around the room.

The Red Hood stands before them. 

The Red Hood is pointing a gun at Roman Sionis, but he does tilt his head at Clark. Clark wishes he could see the man’s face, to know what he is thinking. But the helmet seems to be lead lined. Is that a coincidence? Or does this villain know Clark’s weakness?

“Hood.” Sionis says evenly.

“Mask.” Red Hood replies just as even keeled.

Clark yearns to inch away, to come back as Superman, but there is no way around it.

“I want to know where the kids are.” Hood says darkly.

Sionis laughs once it is short and bitter. Red Hood takes a menacing step closer, the safety is off of the gun.

“Wait!” Clark tries, reaching out.

Hood’s gaze never leaves Sionis’, but he does growl out, “Stay out of this.”

Sionis laughs lightly, “I don’t know what kids you are talking about Red Hood.”

The helmet modulator seems to have a hard time translating the sound that Red Hood makes next. It is somewhere between a growl and feral yell. 

“The kids you plan on trafficking to the Caribbean.” Hood yells. “I know they are somewhere in this building.”

Trafficking kids? Clark’s stomach aches, and he feels bile crawling up his throat.

He stops and listens, really listens. 

At any time he can hear far too much, so usually he tunes it out. But now he tries to find scared heart beats.

At first he only hears the mildly panicked heart beat of Sionis, and the steady thump of Red Hood. He listens more.

Below the basement there is a bunker. He hears ten heart beats, fast and terrified. He hears two more, steadier. Most likely guards.

“They’re in a bunker beneath the basement.” Clark says too quickly. 

Sionis looks at Clark with surprise. Right, Clark wasn’t supposed to know that. He shrugs with his best aw shucks look, “I’m an investigative reporter. Let’s call the police.”

“If I have the information, I don’t need you.” Red Hood says darkly.

The gun goes off too quickly for even Superman to react to. Roman Sionis falls backwards, a bullet wound in the center of his forehead.

Clark looks down at the man – the body – as the blood seeps into the thick blue carpet.

Red Hood turns to look at Clark. Clark stares back, squaring his shoulder.

“Stay out of my business Supes.” Red Hood huffs, “And don’t you dare think of calling the Bats in on this.”

Then the Red Hood stalks out of the office, leaving Clark stupefied that a villain knows his secret identity. 

 

NOW

Clark age 35: September

 

Clark is in the crappy hotel that the Daily Planet set him up in, pacing the length of the room and gnawing at his thumb.

Clark had managed to pull himself together to stumble down the stairs and find ten terrified children. Some look dirty, some bloody, all too skinny. 

Red Hood had left with a salute. A salute that made something in the back of Clark’s mind burn. It was a familiar gesture, it was a familiar mannerism, but from who?

The police had arrived only five minutes later. After giving his statement, and ensuring all the kids were okay, he was released.

Now he is in the motel, pacing.

His phone is in his hand, finger hovering over Bruce’s contact number.

The phone dims, and Clark presses it. He accidentally hits the ‘call’ button. Clark watches in horror as his phone dials.

No! No! No!

Bruce answers on the second ring.

“Clark?” Bruce sounds lighter then he did last time. Maybe not lighter, but less harried.

Clark almost chokes on his words, “Hey. I had a run in with one of your rogues today.”

“In Metropolis, I haven’t gotten an alert on any of them leaving the city.”

Clark takes a deep breath, “No, I am in Gotham. Here on assignment as Clark Kent.” 

Then after a moment of silence, Clark quickly adds, “Only as Clark Kent, no Superman here. I know metas aren’t allowed in Gotham.”

Bruce coughs once, then he awkwardly tries, “You know that rule was never about – you know.”

Clark most decidedly doesn’t know. He just hums noncommittedly.

Bruce clears his throat. 

God when did talking with Bruce get so awkward? Only four short years ago Bruce was his favorite person to talk to. More like talk at, because Bruce isn’t the most sparkling conversationalist, but it had never been like this. Clark’s chest hurts.

“Anyway…” Bruce says, “What were you saying about a rogue?”

Right, that was why Clark had called.

“Yeah, I was interviewing Roman Sionis when Red Hood came in.”

Clark can practically hear Bruce sit up straighter. 

“The Red Hood?”

“Yeah, and he knew my identity. What is going on Bruce?”

Bruce is quiet for a minute. Then his voice comes through the line. It is his leader voice, his Batman voice. Clark hates it.

“It’s handled."

“But Bruce-”

“I said I have it handled Superman.”

Clark pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it in surprise. This is an order, an order from Batman to Superman. Not from Bruce to Clark. 

“I understand Batman.” Clark bites back anger evident in his tone.

“Wait Clark I’m s-” Bruce starts. Clark has the immense satisfaction of hanging up the phone.

 

NOW 

Clark age 35: October

Metropolis falls go from hot to freezing overnight with little warning. Superman floats above the city on the morning the Metropolis seems to decide that summer is over now in early October. Dawn is just peaking over the horizon, and Superman feels the cold air on his skin like a relief.

He had just started the day, felt like getting up and flying around the city.

Bruce had tried to call him last night, around midnight. Clark had opened his eyes blearily to see Bruce’s contact photo flash across the screen. It is still the same photo it was when they were together, one with him smiling open and unguarded. Clark can’t see the rest, but he knows that both of Bruce’s arms are slung around his sons. He rolled over and purposefully ignored it.

When his feet touch down on the top of his favorite building to a click of a gun and the weakening feeling of kryptonite over his body, Clark regrets not taking the call.

“Heya Supes.” The modulated voice says from behind him.

The Red Hood.

“Hood, I didn’t realize you work outside of Gotham.”

“I don’t.” Hood says stiffly.

Superman waits for the Red Hood to add more to the statement. But he doesn’t.

“So what are you doing here?” Superman finally asks. He tries to turn, but the muzzle of the gun pushes into the back of Superman’s head.

“You had to go blabbing to B?” The Red Hood asks, “I didn’t need the lecture from him.”

“Blabbing to B?” Superman repeats. Something about that sounds so familiar. Like the Red Hood knows Batman intimately, like Superman knows the Red Hood.

“Yeah. What part of me telling you not to call Batman wasn’t clear?” 

“Why would I listen to a criminal I don’t even know?” Superman argues. But there is something nagging at the back of his mind. Something that he should remember, something he should know.

The gun is no longer pressed to Superman’s head, and the Red Hood begins to laugh. It is an odd sound, one that the helmet doesn’t seem to recognize.

Clark turns around to see the Red Hood holstering his gun.

“The old man hasn’t told you yet?” Red Hood croons, “Must be ashamed of our little secret.”

Red Hood says it like a joke, like it is something funny, but Superman can sense something deeper there. He is upset that Batman hasn’t told Superman something.

“What secret?” Superman asks. He means for it to be strong, maybe a little cocky, but it comes out almost desperate. Superman isn’t sure why but he knows he needs to find out this secret.

“Ah-ah-ah.” The Red Hood has, wagging a finger like a teacher scolding a child, “You’re the investigative reporter. Figure it out yourself.”

With that, Red Hood pushes Superman off the building.

It takes three stories for Superman to be far enough away from the kryptonite to be able to fly again. When he rushes back up to the rooftop, Red Hood is already gone. 

 

NOW

Clark age 35: October

 

Clark sits bolt upright in bed.

He knows why the Red Hood seems so familiar. 

Clark throws up. It is only his superspeed that keeps him from vomiting on his sheets.

Clark rushes to Gotham. He doesn’t remember to put on his suit. Just goes to the cave.

Bruce is there, he is in his Batman suit, but the cowl is down. Bruce looks tired, staring at the screen of the computer. Dick and Alfred are in the corner of the cave, the later bandaging the other’s arm. Tim isn’t in the cave, but Clark can hear his steady sleeping heart beats above them.

“How dare you!” Clark roars upon entering the cave.

He comes up to Bruce, grabbing him by the suit and forcing him to stand face to face with him. 

From across the cave Alfred lets out a surprised, “Master Clark!”

Clark doesn’t hear it over the roaring in his ears. Clark doesn’t often get mad. He tries his best to stay calm during every crisis personal and professional. But right now he is mad, beyond mad he is livid.

“How could you keep the fact that he was alive from me? From me Bruce?” Clark is shouting. “You know I love these kids like my own. You didn’t think it was important to tell me that Jason is somehow miraculously still alive?”

Bruce looks solid, like he was expecting this. 

Clark has never raised a hand to a partner, current or ex, but damn does he want to now.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

And then to Clark’s utter embarrassment he openly sobs, pitching himself into Bruce’s strong  chest. Bruce’s arm circles around him, and Clark loves it and he hates it.

Clark’s son is alive, and Bruce hadn’t bothered to tell him.

“You didn’t tell him about Jay?” Dick sounds affronted behind them.

Bruce squeezes Clark closer, “I honestly forgot.”

Clark knows that is probably true. He forgot to tell Clark that he had kidnapped Jason, which stands to reason that he would forget to tell him that Jason had returned. It doesn’t make Clark feel any better.

“And when I asked about it? When I specifically asked you about the Red Hood?” Clark asked. He was desperate. Desperate for Bruce to say this was all a mistake.

Bruce looks off to the left. 

“He isn’t the same kid that we remember.” Bruce said too stiffly, “I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Clark wrenches himself away. Behind him he hears Alfred tut and Dick gasp.

Anger floods Clark’s blood.

“Niether is Dick. Kids change, they grow up. And you didn’t give me the chance to see how Jason did it.”

Clark balls his hand into a fist. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that Dick is here, and he doesn’t deserve to see his father punched in the face.

Clark turns around, ready to leave the cave. To leave Bruce forever.

Because in the past four years since their relationship has fizzled out, Clark was sure, positive that they would get back together. When Bruce wasn’t so broken and when Clark could move past the giant ache in his chest. But this, Clark doesn’t think they can come back from this.

Bruce reaches out, lacing his hand with Clark’s, “Wait. Please.”

It is the please that gets him. Bruce doesn’t say please. But now the word is steeped in hope and fear and pain and despair.

Clark shakes away Bruce’s hand.

“I am going to find Jason. I’ll talk to you later.”

 

NOW

Clark age 35: 

 

Now that Clark knows he is looking for Jason. His Jason. He is able to find the kid pretty fast.

Jason is in an abandoned warehouse, with an interior that has been converted into a reasonable living area. Jason isn’t wearing his red hood, and so Clark sees the boy he helped raise for the first time in five years. 

Clark almost falls to his knees.

Jason is bigger, his face has lost the baby fat. But he is still Jason. With curling black hair and a few freckles sprinkled across his nose. He is cooking, what looks like eggs, humming along to a tune that no one else can hear.

Clark flies through the window. 

Jason jumps dropping the spatula.

Jason - His Jason- turns to look at Clark with surprise. Which morphs into barely suppressed anger.

“Guess the Old Man spilled the beans.” Jason huffed. 

“Jason.” The name is thick on Clark’s tongue. He says it with reverence, like a prayer.

“Didn’t Bruce tell you, I came back all wrong, all fucked up.” Jason says, turning his back on Clark, and turning off the burner. Clark can’t stand not seeing Jason’s face.

“Jason.” Clark says again. There is more he wants to say. He wants to cry to hug the kid to his chest. He wants to praise Roh and God and anything else out there for this gift, this wonderful gift. But he doesn’t know how to get the words out.

Words have always been easy for him. So maybe there aren’t words for this moment.

Clark approaches and wraps Jason in a hug. 

At first Jason stiffens in the hold, but then he melts. And so does Clark.

“I didn’t know you were back.” Clark promises after an eternity wrapping his arms around his son. “I’m sorry.”

Jason stiffens suddenly, and pushes himself away from Clark. Clark lets him go, but his fingers itch to hold him again.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry!” Jason yells, his eyes which had moments ago been a teal blue of the ocean turned a toxic green. “If you're so sorry, why is my murderer still walking around? Where is my justice?”

Clark swallows hard. 

“I didn’t think you wanted us to do that.” Clark says finally.

“You thought I wanted the asshole who beat me with a crowbar to be walking around? You must not have known me very well.” Jason hisses.

“I didn’t think you wanted us to be like him. I didn’t think you wanted us to be murderers.” Clark answered. “Bruce tried, you know, he tried to kill the Joker, but I told him that you wouldn’t have wanted that. If you want to be mad, be mad at me. It is my fault.”

Jason opened and closed his jaw. The green flickered for a few seconds. But then it blazed with full force. 

Jason swung a punch at Clark, it connected with Clark’s jaw. A sickening crunch filled the room, and Clark stared at Jason’s broken knuckles.

“Shit!” Jason shouted, cradling his hand to his chest. 

Clark noticed with curiosity the green was gone.

“Let me get you some ice.” Clark moves past Jason to grab some ice from the freezer, all the while Jason swore under his breath. It made Clark grin, to think that Jason hasn’t changed that much.

Clark gently took Jason’s hands. There is already some swelling, but hopefully the knuckles are just fractured, not broken. The ice is gently applied.

Jason looks up at Clark through his lashes, and Clark is struck by how much the kid had grown. He is tall, almost as tall as Clark himself is.

“Did Bruce really try to kill him?” It is a whisper.

“Yes.”

“Then why wouldn’t he do it when I asked?” Jason asked with a begging tilt to his voice.

“I don’t know, Bruce and I don’t really talk anymore.” Clark shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say. How do you tell your kid that he is the reason they didn’t make it?

“Why?”

“We broke up. Your death, it broke Bruce. He wanted to be put in the ground next to you and I couldn’t bury someone else I love.” Clark says.

Clark yearns to bundle Jason back in his arms, to never let Jason go.

“Do you?” Jason asks in the same tone he used when he wanted Clark to be at his adoption. 

Clark tilts his head to the side.

“Do I what?” 

“Still love me? I’ve killed people. I’ve done terrible things. I am not the Jason you put in the ground.”

The need to hug Jason won out. Careful of the injured hand Clark wrapped his boy in his arms. 

“I will always love you Jason.” He vowed and meant every word of it.

 

NOW

Clark age 35: December

 

“I am not sure about this.” Clark says, as Jason pulls him toward the manor.

It is Christmas and Jason refused to go home without Clark at his side. He is still made at Bruce, but somehow Clark has escaped his ire.

“You’re coming or we’re both going.” Jason says.

Alfred would have his neck if Jason didn’t come to Christmas. So Clark breathed in a shaky breath.

They ring the doorbell, which opens only a fraction of a second later by Dick, who was clearly camped by the front door. Dick smiles at both of them, inviting them in. 

Clark finds his way to the kitchen to drop off the bottle of wine with Alfred. 

When he comes back he finds Jason, Dick and Tim rolling around on the ground wrestling each other for the honor of picking the Christmas movie they watch. Clark watches with fondness bursting from his chest. They might not legally be his, but in every way that matters, these are his boys.

There is a presence at his shoulder, Clark doesn’t have to turn to know it is Bruce.

Bruce seems lighter than he has in months, years really. He smiles and gentle lines crease his face.

“They really are something.” Bruce says, looking at the boys. Apparently Tom was victorious sitting atop Jason and Dick with the remote in hand.

“Yeah.” Clark murmurs. The nightmare that has been haunting him for years, the vision of a happy family has come true. Except Clark is not a part of it. Not really.

Bruce clears his throat awkwardly. And Clark tears his eyes away from the kids to look at him.

“I am glad you came to dinner. The boys have missed you around.” Bruce says. Then he drops his voice like this next part is some classified secret, “I have missed you.”

Clark smiles. He reaches out and takes Bruce’s hand. It feel the same as it did five years ago. Solid and strong.

Clark squeezes and Bruce squeezes back.

It isn’t much, but it is a start.

Chapter 3: that was then. this is now.

Notes:

This is just the combination of then and now into one piece. Personally I like it written like this better.

THEN 

Clark age 29 

 

“Superman!” The child shouts. It is an excited squeal, as Robin throws himself off a three story building.

Superman floats up and catches an arm full of Robin. He hears Batman and Nightwing both yell for the younger boy. But Superman mostly hears Robin’s laughter. It is wild and magical.

Superman holds Robin close to him, inhaling his scent in that moment. Jason is a petulant child, only doling out affection when he wants to. Not that Clark blames him. Still, Clark savors every second that Jason allows this close comfort.

“Did ya miss me Robin?” Superman asks. He missed Robin, he missed them all. Two weeks away on a league mission was far too long.

“Course I did.” Robin says easily, but the words make Superman’s heart soar, “B isn’t the same when he can’t talk to you.”

Superman rises more, depositing Robin back onto the roof of the building. Batman is frowning at the two of them, and Nightwing seems to be trying to do the same, but he can’t school his face to be angry. 

“Robin.” Batman starts his voice firm and his lips pressed into a line. But Superman can hear the amusement in his tone, the lightness in his heart beat.

“What Old Man?” Robin asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You got a problem with me greeting Superman?”

Batman is gritting his teeth, especially when Nightwing comes over to Superman and pulls him into a deep hug. Superman inhales Nightwing as well, feels his heart beat and knows his children – Not his children! Bruce’s kids – are safe.

“Of course I don’t have a problem with you greeting Superman.” Batman replies tightly. “I just don’t want you jumping off buildings.”

Superman smiles at Batman, and is greeted by a tight lipped smile. It isn’t much, but the rest will be saved for the manor, away from Gotham’s watchful eye, and away from the eyes of the kids.

Robin waves off Batman’s worries. As if Batman told him off for having too much sugar, not for jumping off a building.

“Come on,” Jason laughs, “Supes always catches me.”

 

THEN

Clark age 31

 

“Remind me never to sign up for an extended space mission again.” Dick says stretching as they exit the shuttle pod. Back onto the Watch Tower. They are minutes away from home. Clark can’t wait to kiss Bruce, to ruffle Jason’s hair and mostly to sleep in a bed that is made for his size.

“You have no room to talk.” Clark says with a laugh, “Remind me never to sign up as the chaperone for a group of teens on an extended space mission again.”

Dick laughs.

They get to the zeta tube, and Dick punches in the code to the Batcave.

They arrived home two days earlier than they had expected, March 28th. Clark grins thinking about how Jason will jump up and pretend like he didn’t miss them. He thinks how Bruce will press a kiss that tastes like coffee to his lips and tell Clark he missed him. He thinks about how he will show Bruce how much he missed him later tonight.

Clark goes through the zeta tube.

Recognized: Superman 

The automated voice calls out his arrival to the cave. Clark expects Jason to bound up, he expects Bruce to smile and wink at him, he expects Alfred to say something very British.

He doesn’t expect the oppressive nature of the cave. When he enters it feels like it is choking him.

Something is wrong. Clark’s body screams at him. 

He closes his eyes and he listens. The house has two heart beats. Only two.

No! Clark almost falls to his knees. He wants to scream to cry. Bruce is dead! That is why the cave is oppressive, Bruce is dead, the love of his life is dead.

Recognized: Nightwing

The automated voice echoes through the emptiness of the cave.

Dick’s grin falls as soon as he sees Clark’s face. That lazy contentment of a well done mission was replaced with apprehension. Clark wants to protect him from whatever awaits them upstairs.

“Clark?” Dick asks, and when Clark looks at him he sees the kid 11 year old kid that came into his life when he started dating Bruce. 

“It’s going to be okay Dick.” Clark promises, but it is a hollow promise.

Because there are only two heartbeats upstairs.

They leave the cave and find Alfred in the kitchen. The butler is actually crying, well more like sniveling, as he prepares tea. Clark is shocked, he always thought Alfred was too English for emotions.

Dick is stiff behind him.

“Oh,” Alfred says when he sees them, blinking as if surprised that they would be here, “I see it’s the 30th.”

Because they were supposed to return on the 30th. Except the mission ended two days early. 

“Alfred?” Dick asks, his voice shaking. “What happened?”

Alfred presses a hand to his mouth. Clark listens to only two heart beats.

“I am so sorry Master Dick.” Alfred starts, but cuts himself off with emotions thick in his voice. Dick reaches out, but his hand stops in the air. Instead he grabs for Clark’s arm. Clark takes is.

There are footsteps behind them. Clark frowns, because this is wrong. The footstep treads are too heavy to be Jason. 

But that doesn’t make sense, because Bruce is dead.

Bruce has to be dead.

Clark might lose the love of his life if Bruce is dead, but if it isn’t Bruce that is dead…

The thought is too much to bear. Because if Bruce is dead that is a terrible tragedy, but Clark can live. He will live on for the boys. If it isn’t Bruce who is dead, the mere thought is too much. Because it will irrevocably break something in Clark.

Still, Clark turns around.

Bruce is standing in the doorway, bags under his eyes. He looks pale and tired. He looks dead inside.

Clark crumbles.

Jason had jumped, and Clark hadn’t caught him.

 

NOW

Clark age 35: August

 

Gotham is on fire. 

Clark hears about it on the news. He knows vaguely, has listened to Bruce’s heart beat. He listens to Dick’s and even Tim’s as well, even though he hasn’t set foot back in the city since…

Clark grits his teeth and he goes to Gotham.

 

THEN

Clark age 28

Superman isn’t supposed to be in Gotham without express permission from Batman, but Superman hasn’t seen Batman weeks. Sure they talk on the phone, but Bruce is cagey when they talk. And Clark misses his boyfriend.

Both Bruce and Batman have been busy the past couple of weeks. And Clark is trying to give Bruce space, because his only son moved out to university and Bruce doesn’t handle emotions well. But there is only so long Clark can go without cuddles.

So he figures it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to fly around Gotham to see if Batman needed help and then maybe ask him out on a date that doesn’t involve crime fighting. One that can safely end at the manor since there is no kid at home.

He sees a cape flutter in the distance, perching down on a rooftop.

Superman grins, flying over to the shape. 

He was hoping for Batman, but what he finds is Robin. A Robin that is considerably younger then the one he is used to. Superman actually shakes his head to make sure the kid is really a kid, and Superman isn’t just over tired.

But no, there is a child hunched on the roof smoking a cigarette in full Robin uniform.

The kid sees Superman before he can think of something to say.

“Don’t blab to B.” Robin says quickly, snuffing the cigarette out of the roof. He looks nervous, wide eyes dashing around, “I promise I haven’t been doing that shit anymore. This was the first time on patrol ever.”

The kid is lying. Badly lying.

But Superman still isn't sure who the kid is.

“Relax,” Superman says placatedly, “Batman doesn’t have to hear about this. As long as you promise it is the last time you smoke.”

New Robin nods vigorously. Superman doesn’t believe it for a second.

“Thanks Clark – Shit I mean Superman. Sorry I am still getting used to this whole codename thing.”

“You know who I am?” Superman says in surprise. So this new Robin is legit, Superman had half convinced himself it was just a kid dressing up.

“Sure, B has talked about you.” Robin waves off, “Says you’ll be coming around because you're his boyfriend, but you won’t come over until I’m ready to meet you. Which is ridiculous, because I told B that it is his house and he can have whoever he wants over.”

“Boyfriend? He used that term?” Superman asked. Because Superman considered them together. They had been dating for about a year. Clark went to Dick’s gymnastics meets and his basketball games. But Bruce never used the term boyfriends.

Robin pretends to gag.

“Ugh you’re as bad as he is. Mooning after each other. Just save it for when I’m asleep.”

That was when Batman arrived on the rooftop. 

“Robin. What have I said about leaving crime scenes without me?” Batman asks gruffly, not even looking at Superman.

“That I shouldn’t go off alone . But I wasn’t alone, I was with Superman.” Robin points to Superman as if proving a point.

Superman raises a brow at Batman, “Hi honey, is there something you forgot to tell me about?”

 

NOW

Always

 

Clark used to love sleeping. He used to love being curled up in Bruce’s embrace. He used to love the weightless feeling of dreams. He used to wake in the morning with a silly story about his dreams.

Since Jason’s – Since Jason Clark dreads sleeping.

He only has two dreams anymore.

The first is Jason, beat and swollen crawling through a warehouse. He sees the trail of blood as he drags himself on broken legs. He hears Jason cry out, hears him call for Bruce for Clark. He hears it in his dreams, and he hates that he didn’t hear it in real life.

When Clark wakes from that dream he has to stay in bed for long hours. In the emptiness of his apartment he listens for Dick first, then Tim, then Bruce, Ma, Pa and Alfred. He listens to their heart beats and lets himself focus on the fact that they are alive.

The second dream is Bruce. It is the life they almost had. With Jason and Dick and even Tim. Clark sees the wedding they had called off. He sees Jason moving out to college. He sees Bruce worry, hands running through black hair, and he kisses those worries away. He sees them happy.

When Clark wakes from that dream he cries. Crying doesn’t bring back that false life, but nothing can.

 

THEN

Clark age 29

 

Jason is outside Clark’s study. It isn’t really Clark’s study. It is the room that Bruce let’s Clark work in when he is at the manor. And if it is decorated to Clark’s tastes with Clark's first published article framed on the wall, well Clark doesn’t mention it.

Clark waits for Jason to come into the room. 

The kid has been pacing back and forth down the hallway for about 30 minutes now. 

Finally Jason seems to pluck up the courage to knock on the office door. Clark smiles, “Come on in.”

Jason comes with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Jason has been in the Wayne household for about a year at this point. He is getting formally adopted by Bruce in a few short weeks. And yet Jason looks very unsure of himself in this space.

“Hey Jason, what can I do for you?” Clark asks.

Jason mumbles something too fast and too quiet for even Clark’s super hearing to pick up.

“ What? ”

Jason looks up, his blue eyes blazing with fire. Clark waits.

“I said,” Jason huffs trying again, “that I want you to be at this whole adoption thing.”

Clark isn’t expecting it. 

Jason’s adoption is something that Bruce has been so excited for, but he has left all the details to Jason. Jason is choosing who is going to be there, Jason is choosing where they are going to go to dinner after. It is Jason’s day. And Jason made it very clear he wants family only.

Family, meaning Bruce, Alfred and Dick. Not Clark, despite how Clark yearns to be a member of the family. 

“I am sorry, I don’t understand-”

Jason huffs, “I thought you were supposed to be smart. I said I want you to come to the whole adoption thing Pops.”

All the words are amazing, Jason wants him. Jason wants him there. Jason called him Pops .

“I thought you just wanted family there?” Clark says dumbly. Then he adds quickly, “Jason I don’t want you to think you have to invite me anywhere.”

Jason kicks at the floor. His face is bright red, and anger burns in his eyes.

“If you don’t want to come you don’t have to.” Jason says. 

Oh. It isn’t anger, Clark realizes. It is humiliation.

Jason thinks Clark doesn’t want to come.

Clark stands immediately, because Jason thinking that simply won’t do. He comes over to Jason, he doesn't touch the kid. Even if he wants to gather him into a hug.

“Jason there is nothing I want more than to be there to celebrate with you. If that is truly what you want.”

Jason shrugs, “‘Course I want you round. You’re family too.”

 

NOW 

Clark age 35: August

 

Superman arrives to Gotham in time to see Red Hood leaving a warehouse. 

Superman floats down in front of the villain. The name makes Clark’s skin itch. But he crosses his arms over his chest.

Red Hood actually looks surprised to see Superman.

“This isn’t your fight Boy Scout.” The Red Hood says, his voice hidden by a voice modulator, but Clark hears something familiar. He tries to look through the helmet, but it is lined with lead.

Gotham rogues, so paranoid.

“Where is Batman?” Superman says, instead of focusing on that familiar tone.

Superman already knows,  can hear him in the warehouse. But still he wants to hear Red Hood to say it.

Red Hood lets out a biting laugh. It sounds bitter and broken, Clark recognizes it in himself.

“The Bat” Red Hood spits out the name, “Is in there trying to save the fucking Joker.”

It seems Batman had misunderstood Superman’s message. Killing the Joker is wrong, getting revenge for the life that he had shattered, made them no better than a villain hell bent on their own revenge. But letting the Joker die? That was just nature taking course.

Superman needs to save Batman. The warehouse is billowing heavy smoke. But for some strange reason, he doesn’t want to leave the Red Hood. 

Superman nods once, and tears himself away from the rogue.

He finds Batman, the hero is giving Joker chest compressions. Superman watches as Batman breaks the Joker’s ribs. He hears the sickening crack.

“He can’t kill you.” Batman is muttering.

The Joker comes back to life, he comes back laughing.

“I knew you’d save me Batsy.”

Batman bares his teeth.

The warehouse creaks, fire licks at the entrance.

“Batman, we’ve got to move.” Superman forced himself to say even though his chest aches to see Batman again.

Batman looks up, surprised to see Superman here. And that hurts too.

Did Batman think that just because they weren’t together anymore he didn’t care? Because Clark cares, he cares so much he can’t get out of bed sometimes.

Superman grabs Batman and flies him back to the cave. Batman doesn’t argue much.

In the cave Dick and Tim are sitting by the computer, Alfred is already preparing medical supplies. Clark used to love the cave, used to love being here. But that was then.

Now Bruce has lined it with lead and made it so Clark can’t hear what is happening. Made it very clear that Clark doesn’t belong here anymore.

“B!” Dick is saying, running towards his father. Bruce removed the cowl. Clark sees the lines in his face, the salt and pepper at his temple. It makes Clark ache .

Bruce wraps a single arm around Dick, it isn’t a hug, not really.

Tim is watching the interaction with badly concealed want.

“Did you get him?” Dick asks with hope in his tone. Which doesn’t make sense. 

“No chum. I didn’t.”

 

THEN

Clark age 32

 

“I can’t watch you kill yourself!” Clark yells, his voice breaking on every word. He can’t. He has already lost Jason, and he can feel their relationship cracking under the pressure. Clark can’t lose this, can’t lose him too.

“Then don’t look.” Bruce hisses out, his voice dangerous.

Clark steps back, like he was slapped. He feels like he might have been.

Tears sting at his eyes as he stares at the man he loves. The man who is tearing himself apart to be put in the ground next to his son.

“You still have people who love you here. You have Dick, you have Alfred, and you have me!” Clark says.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that I have to keep living because I have another son to keep safe? I know Clark, and I will keep living, but I don’t want to. Not anymore. It isn’t really a life worth living if Jason isn’t in it.”

Clark hates Bruce at that moment.

“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about themselves.” Clark whispers. 

As soon as he says it, he wants to take it back. He wants to curl around Bruce and give him his heart, and wants to protect him from everything terrible in this world. 

But he also wants to be with someone who wants to be alive.

“Then I guess we can’t be together anymore.”

Clark leaves the cave. His left hand feels naked.

 

NOW

Clark age 35: August

 

Tim and Dick are put to bed. It isn’t put quite like that, because Tim is 14 and Dick is 25. But Alfred ushers then from the cave. Clark stays as Bruce frantically tracks the Red Hood.

Clark stays, he watches as Bruce looks through all of the nearby cameras.

“He got out.” Clark says.

Bruce startles, like he didn’t realize that Clark was still here. 

“What?” Bruce asks carefully.

“The Red Hood, the man you are looking for. He escaped. I saw him.” Clark explains.

Bruce turns from the computer. He looks at Clark in a way that he hasn’t in four years. Bruce’s eyes are wide, a bit desperate. Almost like he is hungry.

But Clark is struck by the lines in Bruce’s face. He looks older, much more tired. 

“Did you speak with him?” Bruce asks, “Did you see where he was going?”

“We exchanged some words, but I was more focused on finding you.” Clark replies.

Bruce seems disappointed in this. His entire body caves in on itself. Clark is missing something here, something important. 

Then Bruce straightens up. 

“Your help was appreciated Superman.” Bruce says in his gruff Batman voice. Clark hates it, “But you are dismissed.”

Clark doesn’t fight it, just goes.

 

THEN

Clark age 30

 

Clark doesn’t hear them. He doesn’t even hear the door open. It is because the Wayne boys register as family, Clark is so hyper aware of them, but also painfully oblivious to them.

He honestly isn’t expecting it when Dick dive bombs onto Clark’s childhood bed with Clark still in it.

Clark shoots up, suddenly very awake.

Jason is cackling with laughter. Bruce is watching with amusement on his lips. And Dick who is 20 now and much too old to be jumping on Clark’s bed is smiling innocently.

“What are you guys doing here?” Clark asks looking around his childhood room and feeling like it is lacking.

Bruce grew up in the manor, with opulence and riches everywhere. Clark is embarrassed that his old bedroom has a full bed instead of a king. The fact that the wallpaper is peeling in the corners of the room. Bruce deserves so much, and he still picks Clark every day.

“Clark, it’s your birthday .” Dick says as if it makes everything obvious.

“You’ve got to be with family on your birthday.” Jason says, his voice firm. 

Clark looks to Bruce, he finds his boyfriend grinning. It is warm and inviting. It seems like Bruce is asking him something. It cracks Clark’s heart open, he wants to shout and scream. Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Boys, why don’t you help Martha make the pancakes.” Bruce finally says.

Jason and Dick exchange a look. Dick gets a sly smile.

“Come on Jason, let’s leave them to kiss .” Dick says.

Jason pretends to gag, but leaves easily with Dick on his heels.

Bruce comes over to Clark and sits on the edge of his bed. He looks very out of place in his cream button-up and slacks in the wooden farm house. It is completely endearing.

Bruce leans down and presses a long lingering kiss to Clark’s lips. He tastes of the sun and of the future. Clark could kiss Bruce forever. Clark wants to kiss Bruce forever.

“Is it okay that we came here?” Bruce asks, uncharetiteristically unsure of himself.

“More than okay.” Clark confirms, kissing Bruce again, “You’ve got to be with family on your birthday.”

 

NOW

Clark age 35: September

 

Perry gives Clark a story on Gotham. It isn’t about Bruce Wayne – despite their engagement ending almost four years ago it is still a conflict of interest. No this story is about the buy out that Janus Cosmetics is doing with all the smaller brands in Gotham. It is more of a story for Cat, but she is out on some other assignment, and so Clark is asked to handle it.

When they left the briefing room Lois had caught Clark’s eye. “You okay?” she had asked.

Clark had nodded then. Now he regrets it.

Gotham greets him with it’s normal skies, heavy with rain. Clark hasn’t been in Gotham as Clark since Jason’s last birthday. The entire city feels like Jason’s grave, and stepping within it’s walls as Clark hurts him in a way he isn’t expecting.

He’ll visit Jason before he leaves. Clark promises himself.

But right now he is going to an interview with Roman Sionis. It is approaching 8pm when Clark arrives at Janus Industries. Sionis said the only time he was available was late in the day.

Clark is immediately shown to Mr. Sionis’ office. The man sits in his office, the Black Mask melted into his skin. It is disgusting, and Clark tries not to cringe while looking at it. Technically, Roman Sionis is out of Arkham, he is rehabilitated, but he still bears the marks of his former life.

It is a beautiful office, it overlooks downtown Gotham with floor to ceiling windows. The interior walls are frosted glass. A plush slate blue carpet covers the entire office. Mr. Sionis sits before a modern desk with carefully arranged nicknacks that make it feel more like someone staged it for a photoshoot then like someone’s work area.

“Hello Mr. Kent,” Ms. Sionis says cooly, “Thank you for agreeing to meet so late at night.”

“It is no trouble really.” Clark says immediately.

He asks the questions, properly vetted by Cat Grant. He is halfway through asking about monopolies in the cosmetic field when the sound of gunshots ring through the hallway.

Clark jumps immediately, his chair clattering to the ground. Mr. Sionis stands as well.

Shoot! Clark needs to change into his suit, but he can’t leave Sionis here alone. 

“What’s going on?” Clark asks, careful to sound nervous.

“Unexpected visitors.” Sionis says easily, but Clark can hear the uptick in his heart beat, he is nervous, “I do apologize Mr. Kent but it seems this meeting will have to be cut short.”

“We need to run.” Clark says, ready to grab Sionis by the arm and force him out.

A shadow crosses frosted glass walls. A shadow holding a gun.

Clark chances a look at the window, but they are at least 15 stories up, there is no way Sionis could survive the fall, unless Superman helped.

The frosted glass shatters, as a gun shot echoes around the room.

The Red Hood stands before them. 

The Red Hood is pointing a gun at Roman Sionis, but he does tilt his head at Clark. Clark wishes he could see the man’s face, to know what he is thinking. But the helmet seems to be lead lined. Is that a coincidence? Or does this villain know Clark’s weakness?

“Hood.” Sionis says evenly.

“Mask.” Red Hood replies just as even keeled.

Clark yearns to inch away, to come back as Superman, but there is no way around it.

“I want to know where the kids are.” Hood says darkly.

Sionis laughs once it is short and bitter. Red Hood takes a menacing step closer, the safety is off of the gun.

“Wait!” Clark tries, reaching out.

Hood’s gaze never leaves Sionis’, but he does growl out, “Stay out of this.”

Sionis laughs lightly, “I don’t know what kids you are talking about Red Hood.”

The helmet modulator seems to have a hard time translating the sound that Red Hood makes next. It is somewhere between a growl and feral yell. 

“The kids you plan on trafficking to the Caribbean.” Hood yells. “I know they are somewhere in this building.”

Trafficking kids? Clark’s stomach aches, and he feels bile crawling up his throat.

He stops and listens, really listens. 

At any time he can hear far too much, so usually he tunes it out. But now he tries to find scared heart beats.

At first he only hears the mildly panicked heart beat of Sionis, and the steady thump of Red Hood. He listens more.

Below the basement there is a bunker. He hears ten heart beats, fast and terrified. He hears two more, steadier. Most likely guards.

“They’re in a bunker beneath the basement.” Clark says too quickly. 

Sionis looks at Clark with surprise. Right, Clark wasn’t supposed to know that. He shrugs with his best aw shucks look, “I’m an investigative reporter. Let’s call the police.”

“If I have the information, I don’t need you.” Red Hood says darkly.

The gun goes off too quickly for even Superman to react to. Roman Sionis falls backwards, a bullet wound in the center of his forehead.

Clark looks down at the man – the body – as the blood seeps into the thick blue carpet.

Red Hood turns to look at Clark. Clark stares back, squaring his shoulder.

“Stay out of my business Supes.” Red Hood huffs, “And don’t you dare think of calling the Bats in on this.”

Then the Red Hood stalks out of the office, leaving Clark stupefied that a villain knows his secret identity. 

THEN 

Clark age 32

 

Clark is doing fine. He moved back to Metropolis and got an apartment that he likes (read: hates). He goes to lunch biweekly with Dick. He even has a relationship with Bruce’s new kid, as much of a relationship as one can have with your mentor’s ex-fiance. The tan-line on his left finger is almost gone.

Clark is doing fine.

But not today.

Today is Jason’s birthday. It is the first birthday that Jason won’t grow up on. Because Jason is stuck at 15. Jason didn’t get a chance to grow up and Clark hates that.

He stares at the ceiling for a long time, waits for it not to feel like a momentous task to get out of bed. 

It doesn’t get easier.

Clark had called out today. He had rented a car and drove a few towns over from Gotham last night, staying in a motel. Today he planned on going to Jason’s grave and then enjoying a chili dog. He planned on making it a good day.

It can’t be a good day though. Because Jason is dead.

Clark arrives at Jason's grave early. He planned it this way, because he is sure Bruce will also come today, but much later. Clark hasn’t seen Bruce since their last fight. He has seen Batman, has worked with Batman and had stilting awkward conversations in the field with him, but he hasn’t seen Bruce.

Jason’s grace is nice, and nice as a child’s grave can be. 

Clark doesn’t know if he wishes he had been there for the funeral, or if he is thankful he didn’t have to see them lower the boy into the ground.

It doesn’t matter now.

“Hey Jay.” Clark says stiffly. “I know I haven’t visited in a while.”

Clark had only visited once before. The day that he found out Jason was gone. He had come to the grave and used his x-ray vision to confirm. He had thrown up after seeing the boy he loved beaten so savagely.

Clark clears his throat and sits down facing the tombstone. He holds up a copy of Pride and Prejudice as a peace offer.

He pictures Jason’s scoff, pictures Jason’s eyes hungry for the book, just pictures Jason alive.

Clark reads.

He gets through three chapters when footsteps crunch behind him.

Clark doesn't turn, he knows that heart beat.

Dick.

“I didn’t realize you’d be here.” Dick says stiffly.

Clark and Bruce hadn’t meant to hurt Dick in their fall out. But Clark couldn’t seem to stop failing the boys he cares for. Because Dick was hurt. He never called Clark anymore. Clark sees how Dick is falling apart, just like Bruce, and just like Bruce Clark doesn’t know how to help.

“I was just reading to Jason. You want to stay and listen?”

Dick looks a little to the left of Clark, as if asking someone for permission. Clark chances a glance, but there is nothing there.

“Yeah, I’d love to listen.”

 

NOW

Clark age 35: September

 

Clark is in the crappy hotel that the Daily Planet set him up in, pacing the length of the room and gnawing at his thumb.

Clark had managed to pull himself together to stumble down the stairs and find ten terrified children. Some look dirty, some bloody, all too skinny. 

Red Hood had left with a salute. A salute that made something in the back of Clark’s mind burn. It was a familiar gesture, it was a familiar mannerism, but from who?

The police had arrived only five minutes later. After giving his statement, and ensuring all the kids were okay, he was released.

Now he is in the motel, pacing.

His phone is in his hand, finger hovering over Bruce’s contact number.

The phone dims, and Clark presses it. He accidentally hits the ‘call’ button. Clark watches in horror as his phone dials.

No! No! No!

Bruce answers on the second ring.

“Clark?” Bruce sounds lighter then he did last time. Maybe not lighter, but less harried.

Clark almost chokes on his words, “Hey. I had a run in with one of your rogues today.”

“In Metropolis, I haven’t gotten an alert on any of them leaving the city.”

Clark takes a deep breath, “No, I am in Gotham. Here on assignment as Clark Kent.” 

Then after a moment of silence, Clark quickly adds, “Only as Clark Kent, no Superman here. I know metas aren’t allowed in Gotham.”

Bruce coughs once, then he awkwardly tries, “You know that rule was never about – you know.”

Clark most decidedly doesn’t know. He just hums noncommittedly.

Bruce clears his throat. 

God when did talking with Bruce get so awkward? Only four short years ago Bruce was his favorite person to talk to. More like talk at, because Bruce isn’t the most sparkling conversationalist, but it had never been like this. Clark’s chest hurts.

“Anyway…” Bruce says, “What were you saying about a rogue?”

Right, that was why Clark had called.

“Yeah, I was interviewing Roman Sionis when Red Hood came in.”

Clark can practically hear Bruce sit up straighter. 

“The Red Hood?”

“Yeah, and he knew my identity. What is going on Bruce?”

Bruce is quiet for a minute. Then his voice comes through the line. It is his leader voice, his Batman voice. Clark hates it.

“It’s handled."

“But Bruce-”

“I said I have it handled Superman.”

Clark pulls the phone away from his ear and stares at it in surprise. This is an order, an order from Batman to Superman. Not from Bruce to Clark. 

“I understand Batman.” Clark bites back anger evident in his tone.

“Wait Clark I’m s-” Bruce starts. Clark has the immense satisfaction of hanging up the phone.

 

THEN 

Clark age 30

 

Jason and Dick are acting strange today. When the boys are acting strange it can mean anything from they had switched the salt and sugar bowls in the morning to they had successfully snuck into the pentagon. Dick keeps looking at him with a goofy smile on his face, and Jason keeps kicking Dick in the shin.

Normally, Bruce is the one to snap at Jason not to kick his brother, but Bruce is also off today.

Which leaves Clark to be the bad guy, telling Jason to stop.

Jason rolls his eyes but agrees to not kick Dick anymore. Until Dick stares at him dopeily again and the cycle repeats.

“Have you noticed the boys acting strange?” Clark asks Bruce as they dress in suits.

Honestly, Clark isn’t sure why they are dressing up. Sometimes Bruce forgets to tell Clark about events they have, and sometimes Bruce just likes to see Clark in a suit. Today seems to be the latter.

“I haven’t noticed anything.” Bruce replies, which is a lie. Clark knows it is a lie even without hearing the skip in Bruce’s heart beat. Because Bruce might be oblivious to lots of emotions, but he is highly attuned to the feelings of his boys. 

But Clark lets it go. If it is serious, he knows that Bruce would tell him.

Bruce takes him to a fancy restaurant in Gotham. It is in a sky scraper, overlooking the city. From above, Gotham almost looks beautiful.

The restaurant is empty besides them.

Clark’s heart hammers in his ears.

But Bruce simply looks over the menu and asks if Clark is feeling like red or white tonight.

The night is beautiful, they talk and laugh. And when dinner comes, an apple pie that looks completely out of place in this 5 Michelin star restaurant, Bruce slides a velvet box across the table.

Clark blinks at him.

“Well?” Bruce asks, raising a brow.

“Most people actually ask a question with the ring.” Clark counters, but his hands are shaking.

Bruce sighs as if he is being put out, but his nervous smile gives him away. 

“Clark Kent,” Bruce starts sending a shiver down Clark’s spine, “I am not good at this whole emotional thing. But you must know that you are one of the most important things in my life. And I want you there every day. With me and my children. I want to be with you.”

It is a bit of an awkward proposal, but Clark smiles brighter than the stars and sun.

“Well put the ring on!”

Bruce slides the most beautiful ring onto Clark’s left hand. Clark doesn’t mention how Bruce’s hands shake as he does it. Bruce doesn’t mention the happy shine of tears in Clark’s eyes.

When they stumble into the manor hours later, punch drunk and happy they find Jason waiting for them.

“You going to join the family right, Pops?” Jason asks.

And Clark has never felt more right. This is his family. 

“Yeah Jason. I am.”

NOW 

Clark age 35: October

Metropolis falls go from hot to freezing overnight with little warning. Superman floats above the city on the morning the Metropolis seems to decide that summer is over now in early October. Dawn is just peaking over the horizon, and Superman feels the cold air on his skin like a relief.

He had just started the day, felt like getting up and flying around the city.

Bruce had tried to call him last night, around midnight. Clark had opened his eyes blearily to see Bruce’s contact photo flash across the screen. It is still the same photo it was when they were together, one with him smiling open and unguarded. Clark can’t see the rest, but he knows that both of Bruce’s arms are slung around his sons. He rolled over and purposefully ignored it.

When his feet touch down on the top of his favorite building to a click of a gun and the weakening feeling of kryptonite over his body, Clark regrets not taking the call.

“Heya Supes.” The modulated voice says from behind him.

The Red Hood.

“Hood, I didn’t realize you work outside of Gotham.”

“I don’t.” Hood says stiffly.

Superman waits for the Red Hood to add more to the statement. But he doesn’t.

“So what are you doing here?” Superman finally asks. He tries to turn, but the muzzle of the gun pushes into the back of Superman’s head.

“You had to go blabbing to B?” The Red Hood asks, “I didn’t need the lecture from him.”

“Blabbing to B?” Superman repeats. Something about that sounds so familiar. Like the Red Hood knows Batman intimately, like Superman knows the Red Hood.

“Yeah. What part of me telling you not to call Batman wasn’t clear?” 

“Why would I listen to a criminal I don’t even know?” Superman argues. But there is something nagging at the back of his mind. Something that he should remember, something he should know.

The gun is no longer pressed to Superman’s head, and the Red Hood begins to laugh. It is an odd sound, one that the helmet doesn’t seem to recognize.

Clark turns around to see the Red Hood holstering his gun.

“The old man hasn’t told you yet?” Red Hood croons, “Must be ashamed of our little secret.”

Red Hood says it like a joke, like it is something funny, but Superman can sense something deeper there. He is upset that Batman hasn’t told Superman something.

“What secret?” Superman asks. He means for it to be strong, maybe a little cocky, but it comes out almost desperate. Superman isn’t sure why but he knows he needs to find out this secret.

“Ah-ah-ah.” The Red Hood has, wagging a finger like a teacher scolding a child, “You’re the investigative reporter. Figure it out yourself.”

With that, Red Hood pushes Superman off the building.

It takes three stories for Superman to be far enough away from the kryptonite to be able to fly again. When he rushes back up to the rooftop, Red Hood is already gone. 

THEN

Clark age 31

 

Jason and Bruce are fighting again. He can hear it when he comes home from work.

“Fuck you!” Jason screams right as Clark steps through the threshold.

“Watch your mouth.” Bruce says calmly. His voice is devoid of any emotion. Clark cringes, know that it will make Jason more upset.

“Or what? You’ll beat the bad words out of me?” Jason asks with a laugh, “Never worked when Willis did it.”

Clark sucks in a breath, horrified at what he just heard. Bruce does as well.

Clark finds them in the living room. Jason is glaring at Bruce, and Bruce is trying his best to appear calm.

“I think you both need to calm down.” Clark says upon seeing them.

Jason has a fire in his eyes. And Bruce? He looks like he has hurricanes in his mind.

“I don’t need to calm down!” Jason screams, “I am fine, and Bruce is being a jackass.”

Bruce is still looking lost, still staring at Jason. Clark knows he is imaging their little boy being beaten. Knows he is picturing Jason calling for help, Jason crying. Clark knows Bruce’s hands are clenched into tight fists and he is, not for the first time, imaging resurrecting Willis Todd just to kill him again. 

“Fine, then Bruce can go and be a jackass somewhere else.” Clark offers.

Bruce blinks at Clark, clearly wanting to argue. But Clark tilts his head.

Clark and Bruce read a bunch of parenting books recently. Books about dealing with teenage angst and helping children who had previously suffered from abuse. Bruce had taken careful notes in the margins, highlighting particular passages and showing them to Clark.

Clark remembers one very clearly, it says do not engage with the child if you are not emotionally in a good spot. And Bruce isn’t.

Bruce seems to read Clark’s thoughts and finally nods, slinking out of the room.

Jason throws himself on one of the couches with an angry huff.

Clark finds a chair a bit away. He doesn’t say anything, just sits in Jason’s presence.

After about 15 minutes Jason finally huffs, “He is being unreasonable. He wants me to leave the house.”

Clark is very sure that is not what Bruce was saying. But he turns to face Jason anyway.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he wants me to join some afterschool clubs and to start going out with people. He doesn’t want me here anymore.”

Clark wishes he could laugh. This entire conversation is about trying to get Jason hobbies? But he schools his expression to an open face of concern.

“Maybe he wants you to have more friends. Friends you could also invite here.” Clark offers, trying to keep his tone neutral.

“I don’t need new friends. I’ve got my family. I have Alfred, Dick and you. I don’t want to give you up.”

Clark’s heart still hammers when Jason calls him a part of the family.

“You don’t have to give anyone up in order to have friends.” Clark says, “Bruce just wants you to have everything.”

And it is true. If Bruce could give Jason or Dick the stars in the sky he would.

Jason shifts, uneasily.

“Then why does he have to say it like he wants me gone?”

Clark laughs, “Have you met Bruce? He says everything bluntly and hopes that you understand what you mean.”

Jason laughs too. He moves himself so he is sitting next to Clark. His head leans against Clark’s shoulder. Clark savors it, because Jason is fifteen, and will soon be too old and too cool to lean on Clark like this.

“Why d’ya got to go for six months? Bruce and I are gonna kill each while you and Dick are gone.” Jason bemoans.

“Cause the Teen Titans need a chaperone, and I’ve gotta watch out for Dick. I know you and Bruce will be perfectly fine without me.”

 

NOW

Clark age 35: October

 

Clark sits bolt upright in bed.

He knows why the Red Hood seems so familiar. 

Clark throws up. It is only his superspeed that keeps him from vomiting on his sheets.

Clark rushes to Gotham. He doesn’t remember to put on his suit. Just goes to the cave.

Bruce is there, he is in his Batman suit, but the cowl is down. Bruce looks tired, staring at the screen of the computer. Dick and Alfred are in the corner of the cave, the later bandaging the other’s arm. Tim isn’t in the cave, but Clark can hear his steady sleeping heart beats above them.

“How dare you!” Clark roars upon entering the cave.

He comes up to Bruce, grabbing him by the suit and forcing him to stand face to face with him. 

From across the cave Alfred lets out a surprised, “Master Clark!”

Clark doesn’t hear it over the roaring in his ears. Clark doesn’t often get mad. He tries his best to stay calm during every crisis personal and professional. But right now he is mad, beyond mad he is livid.

“How could you keep the fact that he was alive from me? From me Bruce?” Clark is shouting. “You know I love these kids like my own. You didn’t think it was important to tell me that Jason is somehow miraculously still alive?”

Bruce looks solid, like he was expecting this. 

Clark has never raised a hand to a partner, current or ex, but damn does he want to now.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

And then to Clark’s utter embarrassment he openly sobs, pitching himself into Bruce’s strong  chest. Bruce’s arm circles around him, and Clark loves it and he hates it.

Clark’s son is alive, and Bruce hadn’t bothered to tell him.

“You didn’t tell him about Jay?” Dick sounds affronted behind them.

Bruce squeezes Clark closer, “I honestly forgot.”

Clark knows that is probably true. He forgot to tell Clark that he had kidnapped Jason, which stands to reason that he would forget to tell him that Jason had returned. It doesn’t make Clark feel any better.

“And when I asked about it? When I specifically asked you about the Red Hood?” Clark asked. He was desperate. Desperate for Bruce to say this was all a mistake.

Bruce looks off to the left. 

“He isn’t the same kid that we remember.” Bruce said too stiffly, “I didn’t want you to get your hopes up.”

Clark wrenches himself away. Behind him he hears Alfred tut and Dick gasp.

Anger floods Clark’s blood.

“Niether is Dick. Kids change, they grow up. And you didn’t give me the chance to see how Jason did it.”

Clark balls his hand into a fist. He takes a deep breath, reminds himself that Dick is here, and he doesn’t deserve to see his father punched in the face.

Clark turns around, ready to leave the cave. To leave Bruce forever.

Because in the past four years since their relationship has fizzled out, Clark was sure, positive that they would get back together. When Bruce wasn’t so broken and when Clark could move past the giant ache in his chest. But this, Clark doesn’t think they can come back from this.

Bruce reaches out, lacing his hand with Clark’s, “Wait. Please.”

It is the please that gets him. Bruce doesn’t say please. But now the word is steeped in hope and fear and pain and despair.

Clark shakes away Bruce’s hand.

“I am going to find Jason. I’ll talk to you later.”

 

THEN

Clark age 33

 

Superman stands between Batman and the Joker.

He listens as the damned clown laughs and laughs. It makes Superman want to scream.

Batman is snarling at him, his hands balled into fists.

“Move Superman.” Batman growls.

Joker laughs louder.

“No.” Superman says firmly.

Batman is snarling, “He deserves to die. He killed Robin. Or did you forget?”

Bruce is saying it to hurt him, Clark knows that. It doesn’t stop it from hitting its mark. 

How dare Bruce say that to him. How dare Bruce act like Jason’s death didn’t completely ruin him too. While Clark wasn’t officially Jason’s dad, he still lost a son when Joker murdered the boy.

But Jason’s memory didn’t deserve to be tarnished by death. Robin was magic and to murder, even to murder this monster, would destroy that magic. And Jason deserves so much more then that.

Bruce does as well.

“We are not judge jury and executioner.” Superman says, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t get mad at Batman. He doesn’t scream at the joker. He doesn’t fall to his knees and try to tear at the aching hole in his chest. 

Batman lunges forward, trying to get past Superman.

Superman doesn’t let him.

“He wouldn’t want this.” Superman whispers, Batman hears him.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants.” Batman argues, “He’s dead.”

The joker is laughing louder.

“Don’t destroy his memory. Please Batman. Don’t kill for him. Robin doesn’t deserve that.”

Batman straightens, his spine going ramrod straight. Finally, he nods and turns away, leaving Superman with the man that killed his son.

The joker laughs louder. 

Clark isn’t a saint, so he punches the man in the face. The Joker looks better with blood pouring from his nose.

 

NOW

Clark age 35: 

 

Now that Clark knows he is looking for Jason. His Jason. He is able to find the kid pretty fast.

Jason is in an abandoned warehouse, with an interior that has been converted into a reasonable living area. Jason isn’t wearing his red hood, and so Clark sees the boy he helped raise for the first time in five years. 

Clark almost falls to his knees.

Jason is bigger, his face has lost the baby fat. But he is still Jason. With curling black hair and a few freckles sprinkled across his nose. He is cooking, what looks like eggs, humming along to a tune that no one else can hear.

Clark flies through the window. 

Jason jumps dropping the spatula.

Jason - His Jason- turns to look at Clark with surprise. Which morphs into barely suppressed anger.

“Guess the Old Man spilled the beans.” Jason huffed. 

“Jason.” The name is thick on Clark’s tongue. He says it with reverence, like a prayer.

“Didn’t Bruce tell you, I came back all wrong, all fucked up.” Jason says, turning his back on Clark, and turning off the burner. Clark can’t stand not seeing Jason’s face.

“Jason.” Clark says again. There is more he wants to say. He wants to cry to hug the kid to his chest. He wants to praise Roh and God and anything else out there for this gift, this wonderful gift. But he doesn’t know how to get the words out.

Words have always been easy for him. So maybe there aren’t words for this moment.

Clark approaches and wraps Jason in a hug. 

At first Jason stiffens in the hold, but then he melts. And so does Clark.

“I didn’t know you were back.” Clark promises after an eternity wrapping his arms around his son. “I’m sorry.”

Jason stiffens suddenly, and pushes himself away from Clark. Clark lets him go, but his fingers itch to hold him again.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry!” Jason yells, his eyes which had moments ago been a teal blue of the ocean turned a toxic green. “If you're so sorry, why is my murderer still walking around? Where is my justice?”

Clark swallows hard. 

“I didn’t think you wanted us to do that.” Clark says finally.

“You thought I wanted the asshole who beat me with a crowbar to be walking around? You must not have known me very well.” Jason hisses.

“I didn’t think you wanted us to be like him. I didn’t think you wanted us to be murderers.” Clark answered. “Bruce tried, you know, he tried to kill the Joker, but I told him that you wouldn’t have wanted that. If you want to be mad, be mad at me. It is my fault.”

Jason opened and closed his jaw. The green flickered for a few seconds. But then it blazed with full force. 

Jason swung a punch at Clark, it connected with Clark’s jaw. A sickening crunch filled the room, and Clark stared at Jason’s broken knuckles.

“Shit!” Jason shouted, cradling his hand to his chest. 

Clark noticed with curiosity the green was gone.

“Let me get you some ice.” Clark moves past Jason to grab some ice from the freezer, all the while Jason swore under his breath. It made Clark grin, to think that Jason hasn’t changed that much.

Clark gently took Jason’s hands. There is already some swelling, but hopefully the knuckles are just fractured, not broken. The ice is gently applied.

Jason looks up at Clark through his lashes, and Clark is struck by how much the kid had grown. He is tall, almost as tall as Clark himself is.

“Did Bruce really try to kill him?” It is a whisper.

“Yes.”

“Then why wouldn’t he do it when I asked?” Jason asked with a begging tilt to his voice.

“I don’t know, Bruce and I don’t really talk anymore.” Clark shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say. How do you tell your kid that he is the reason they didn’t make it?

“Why?”

“We broke up. Your death, it broke Bruce. He wanted to be put in the ground next to you and I couldn’t bury someone else I love.” Clark says.

Clark yearns to bundle Jason back in his arms, to never let Jason go.

“Do you?” Jason asks in the same tone he used when he wanted Clark to be at his adoption. 

Clark tilts his head to the side.

“Do I what?” 

“Still love me? I’ve killed people. I’ve done terrible things. I am not the Jason you put in the ground.”

The need to hug Jason won out. Careful of the injured hand Clark wrapped his boy in his arms. 

“I will always love you Jason.” He vowed and meant every word of it.

 

NOW

Clark age 35: December

“I am not sure about this.” Clark says, as Jason pulls him toward the manor.

It is Christmas and Jason refused to go home without Clark at his side. He is still made at Bruce, but somehow Clark has escaped his ire.

“You’re coming or we’re both going.” Jason says.

Alfred would have his neck if Jason didn’t come to Christmas. So Clark breathed in a shaky breath.

They ring the doorbell, which opens only a fraction of a second later by Dick, who was clearly camped by the front door. Dick smiles at both of them, inviting them in. 

Clark finds his way to the kitchen to drop off the bottle of wine with Alfred. 

When he comes back he finds Jason, Dick and Tim rolling around on the ground wrestling each other for the honor of picking the Christmas movie they watch. Clark watches with fondness bursting from his chest. They might not legally be his, but in every way that matters, these are his boys.

There is a presence at his shoulder, Clark doesn’t have to turn to know it is Bruce.

Bruce seems lighter than he has in months, years really. He smiles and gentle lines crease his face.

“They really are something.” Bruce says, looking at the boys. Apparently Tom was victorious sitting atop Jason and Dick with the remote in hand.

“Yeah.” Clark murmurs. The nightmare that has been haunting him for years, the vision of a happy family has come true. Except Clark is not a part of it. Not really.

Bruce clears his throat awkwardly. And Clark tears his eyes away from the kids to look at him.

“I am glad you came to dinner. The boys have missed you around.” Bruce says. Then he drops his voice like this next part is some classified secret, “I have missed you.”

Clark smiles. He reaches out and takes Bruce’s hand. It feel the same as it did five years ago. Solid and strong.

Clark squeezes and Bruce squeezes back.

It isn’t much, but it is a start.