Chapter Text
Clark took a few steps back to look up the manor, unsure to be in the right place. He checked on his phone the messages with Bruce, before stepping back to the front door and knocking again.
After a while, he sighed and leaned his back against the door. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilted his head upwards and closed his eyes, focusing his hearing on the specific heartbeat. Once he found it, he let a soft chuckle out as he slid himself to the ground.
Bruce stepped out of his car with a frown. He checked on his wrist clock and looked up again to the smiling man sitting on his porch. "We said 12.30"
"Well, I thought I could come earlier and help with the preparations." Clark smiled and lifted himself up, dusting his pants, while Bruce walked to the back of his car.
"Clark, it's 10.15"
He shrugged, still smiling. "I might have miscalculated this. Might have arrived 3 hours earlier. Don't mind, I'm-" Bruce stopped himself where he was grabbing the shopping bags from the trunk, whipping his head around so fast it gave back pain to Clark from watching it.
"Three?!" Bruce's wide eyes looked back at his clock. "You've been here sitting for almost an-!? Whu- Cla- WHAT?!"
Clark smiled and grabbed one of the bags, shrugging again. "As I said. Miscalculated. And I'm good at waiting." He chuckled again at the incredulous expression on the other man's face. "I was hoping one of the kids would have let me inside before you arrived, actually"
"Oh..." He sighed without expanding on the topic.
Now... That wasn't a good sign. Clark frowned, taking some bags out of Bruce's hands when he saw him juggle to open the door.
"Bruce-"
"I was thinking about Italian. I bought everything to make some lasagna, if you're up to it"
Clark softly followed him inside, feet barely touching the ground, except for when he took off his shoes, he basically floated around the house. He looked down at Bruce while they moved to the kitchen area. "B..."
Bruce looked up, smiling. "Clark, it's been a while since there was someone else moving around the kitchen. Let me enjoy this, please?" His eyes were sad, tired, and glossy with emotion.
Clark nodded, softly leaving the bags on the counter. "Ok. But after lunch... I'm not letting this go." He smiled back.
Bruce let out the air he had stored without noticing. "Thank you. Now, Italian. Thoughts?"
For the rest of the afternoon, they talked and joked around a few glasses of wine while cooking and eating. Clark couldn't help but notice how the man transformed and relaxed with smiles and not so much controlled laughs. He himself hasn't felt so relaxed since... Well. Since before the divorce, before the kitchen turned too big and the apartment too quiet. He allowed himself to laugh loudly at Bruce's joke, throwing his head back, enjoying the fresh reddish look on his friend's face.
They sat under a tree at the far back of the terrain. Clark took on the sigh, remembering how everything used to look back when Bruce had bought the Lohmuller manor ruins. He smiled, opening his mouth to compliment the garden, but he quickly closed it, taking in Bruce's expression. He was staring at the building, the sun hitting his facial contours in perfect places, the shadows of the leaves playing on the tip of his nose. From Clark's perspective, he could see the freshly shaved chin, the long lashes, every mole kissing his skin, the grey on his blue irises, the scars on his temple. He looked soft. Relaxed. And sad.
Clark tilted his head, leaning on his knees as he looked up to Bruce. "Where's Damian?" He softly asked.
Bruce blinked, sighed, looked down and smiled. "At Dick's. We... Had a fight"
Clark frowned "And Richard took him in? Again? Bruce. He's your son"
Bruce shrugged and looked back to Clark. Rao, he looked tired. "I told Dames about today. I thought... I-" he swallowed, closing his eyes "he asked if Jon was coming, and when I told him Jon wasn't invited, he practically hung up on me" a sad chuckle. As if it was funny.
"Bruce... That's- that's not-"
"Dick called me when Damian arrived there. Not to let me know, no. But to ask what had I done this ti-" Bruce's face crumbled and he turned down to hide it between his hands. "Gods. I- We were talking about college. I just- I wanted him to know that he could - that Robin wasn't an obligation and he-"
"Oh, Bruce" He slowly wrapped his arms around the trembling man. "Of course you want your son out of this life. He must have misunderstood you. But that doesn't justify Dick's action. He can't overstep your duties" He stroked the back of Bruce's neck until the breathing steadied itself again.
"Want me to intervene?" He looked down, waiting for an answer, expecting a rejection, boundaries, instead, he froze when Bruce looked up. Soft, vulnerable, pale blue eyes rimmed red... So close. He felt his throat dry as he swallowed. Immediately feeling the lost when Bruce pushed himself back and straightened to look at him.
"Do you think you can talk him out? Bring him back?"
Clark forced his thoughts and heart to steady, as he nodded. "He's still a minor, Bruce. Even if he doesn't want to come back...- No. I'll talk to him. He'll come back voluntarily." He smiled. This was new. Different. Trustworthy. He can be trustworthy for Bruce.
"Thank you." He whispered. They sat in silence, looking back to the building.
"You made something amazing here, Bruce" Pennyworth Manor. This wasn't a base for Bruce. This was a home, built specifically for his family. "You built something amazing"
Bruce bit his lower lip, a frown already forming. "It feels so empty". Clark looked back. Confused. He noticed the dark bags under the man's eyes. "This place... It wasn't supposed to feel so empty"
Clark took a deep breath, steadying himself to his feet. Carefully grabbing Bruce's hand and pulling him upwards, making him stand up. "Come on, B. Let's get inside. Wait for me, I'll be back with Damian before it's dark."
"Now? You're going now?"
Clark chuckles. "I mean, not right NOW. We haven't eaten dessert"
The fly to Blüdhaven takes him less than two minutes, and he finds himself standing in the roof of the apartment complex. He surely hopes nobody has seen him arrive, but if he was spotted... Well. He was currently considering kidnapping a child from the kid's brother's home, so Superman showing up at Blüdhaven is the least careless thing he could be doing. But, better prevent it if possible, so... He unlocks his phone to message Oracle, but before he does, his phone pings with a message: "Welcome. Cams are disconnected. Door is open." He gives a thumbs up to the camera over his head, and quickly changes his clothes to his civilian ones.
He stands in front of the apartment door, debating if knocking or just entering, when the door opens with a burst. A face full of energy and a blinding grin greets him. "Clark!" Clark swallows his sigh, of course Oracle would have told the man.
"Richard" he'll be polite and to the point. He'll be strong, and won't falter. Even if the way the smile on Dick's face dissapears crushes his soul. Oh Rao. No! He closes his eyes, he organizes his thoughts. Think of Bruce!! You have one mission! He opens his eyes again. He. Won't. Falter! "A word, please?" He moves out of the way, allowing the deflated and confused man to step outside.
Clark gives a quick look inside the apartment, not missing the looks from Barbara and Damian as the door closes behind Dick.
"Everything okay, Clark?" Richard ask with a concerned tone.
He inhales. "Sorry, champ. But no. I'm- This is not okay." He puts a hand over the man's shoulder, and softly gives a small grip. "I came for Damian, Richard"
The face of the young man goes through a couple of emotions before settling in disbelief. He slowly raises his hand, giving a kind pat on Clark's own, signaling for him to let go. "I don't get it, Clark. Why do you need Damian?"
Clark looks up to the door, quickly using his x ray to confirm that, as he had thought, Damian was hearing on their conversation. "I don't need him, Richard. I'm bringing him to his father." He looks down to the frown on Dick's face.
"What?" He looks so incredibly confused.
"Richard..." Dick raises a hand to his face.
"First of all, what's with the name? Are you angry at me? Wait..." He narrow his eyes at him "did Bruce send you here?"
Clark curses internally. He should have come better prepared. He should have just enter, taken the kid and fly away. Maybe leaving a note. Maybe giving a call from Bruce's. But no. He had to be faced with the grow up that he considered practically his own kid. He tried to put a small smile, standing tall. As strong as he could. "He did not send me. I volunteered, Richard"
"Oh, please don't give me that. Clark, go back. If Bruce can't be a good father and come over on his own-"
"Don't." the growl that came out of him made the walls of the building vibrate around them "Don't you dare insult your father like that." He didn't raise his voice. But he was close to. All his softness and doubt erased the moment he heard Dick doubt his friend's parental capacity.
"Clar-"
"I'm not here to talk to you, Richard. I came to pick one child, not to fight another" Dick glared at him "I won't allow you to speak about him like that. I won't hear you doubt your father's capabilities and care like that!! I won't stand while you -!!"
The door of the apartment slowly opened, and Damian showed up with a bad over his shoulder. "Kent. Stop, I'm ready to leave."
"Damian..." Dick turned to his baby brother with a worried face.
"No, Richard. The alien is right. You shouldn't question father's parental capacities in front of me nor his coworkers. It diminishes him and what he means to us all." Damian stood tall, while Dick and Clark slowly blinked in shock. "I won't apologize right now, since my apology is meaningless if not to father. And also would appreciate if you stopped scaring Richard's neighbors." Clark quietly nodded. "Okay, so."
"Wait." Barbara interrupted from inside the apartment. "How are you guys getting back? I don't think that Superman carrying a civil from Blüdhaven to Gotham is part of the plan."
They all turned to Clark, who was slowly getting redder on the face as he ducked down. "Geez..."
"Seriously?"
"I won't pretend to be impressed"
"Clark..."
The waiting was... Awkward, to say the least. They all stood in the living room while waiting for Bruce to come pick them up. Dick tried to keep it civil, offering a cup of tea to Clark, who rejected it, doing his best to stay angry at the young man.
At the third attempt of Dick to be a good host, Clark had to stand up, and physically get away from him.
"Oh, please, Clark!!"
"No! Dick! You're not understanding!" Clark was losing a battle to his own composure. He was waving his arms around, pacing on the living room. "What you've done- what you CONSTANTLY do, is beyond disrespectful!"
"Clark. You're the one who isn't under-"
"Richard! Damian is his son! Not yours!!" That made the young man quiet. "No matter what you think of his ways, as long as he's not failing his duties as a father, you have no saying on Damian's raising!"
"Kent, it's also my-"
"No, Damian! You're a kid. You're supposed to behave this way. But him" He pointed at Richard "he's supposed to know better! You're a child, and you ran away from home. HIS duty, as a grown up, as your older brother, was to bring you home!!" He sat down, hand on his face. "At the very least he should have called your parent and ASK to let you stay here. Ask, Damian. Your father is not supposed to cry for-"
"What?" Dick eyes where comically wide
"Shoot, never mind" Clark stood up.
"Kent?" Damian followed behind the tall man.
"Let's go, Damian. Your dad must be close. We'll wait downstairs"
"Clark, wait" Richard tried to follow them
Clark turned around, hand between them. "Richard. I too, have my issues with Bruce's way too see certain things. But I respect him well enough to know where the limits in my interventions are." He tried to smile at him. "Please forget what I said just now... that was a mistake, I don't want to break the trust he has given me"
Dick could only nod. "Sure. Please have a safe travel, and let me know when you get there."
"Ask your brother that" he fully smiled now "I'm still trying to stay mad at you" Dick chuckled and shrugged.
It didn't take Bruce more that 20 minutes, since their call, to be next to his car outside Richard's apartment complex. Clark saw him nervously fiddle with his keys and fondly sighed. He pressed a hand on the back of Damian's shoulder and softly pushed him forward. "Go with him. I'll wait for you both on the manor, ok, kiddo?"
Damian frowned at the nickname, but nodded before confidently walking to his father's side.
Bruce stood straight as soon as he saw him close, a soft sigh escaping him as he looked lovingly to his son. Damian blinked once, in surprise, before opening his mouth. "Damian" Bruce interrupted him with a smile. "Did you... Are you alone?" Bruce looked behind Damian's shoulder.
Damian tilted his head in confusion, before turning around. "No, the alien was... Huh." He turned back to his father. "Well, he said he'll join us at the manor, anyway."
Bruce nodded, and opened the door for his son, before quietly rounding the car to the driver's seat.
He was reversing, his arm rested on the back of Damian's seat while he had his head slightly turned back to watch over his shoulder, when he heard a soft "I'm sorry". He froze for a millisecond, before turning to the front and changing rears to drive back home. He glanced to his son's face. Damian had his head towards him, looking. Waiting.
"Hn." He inhaled. "Ok"
Damian frowned and looked down. "Father... Baba." Thank god for the red light. Bruce slowly stopped the car and turned to see his son, eyes filled with emotion. "I'm sorry. I should have... I shouldn't have... I- I'm sorry" Green light.
Bruce exhaled. "You're... Sorry"
Damian nodded and softly put his hand over his father's on the shift lever. "I'm sorry"
A beat. Bruce looked to the front. For a second, Damian felt nervous, and made to move his hand away, but his father quickly took it, placing it on the gear, before placing his own on top. "You are. Thank you for apologizing." Damian looked up from where their hands intertwined, and saw the proud, teary eyes of his father with the shine of the highway reflected on them.
Damian swallowed and looked to the front. "I won't- I won't disappear on you again"
"Mhm"
"I'll- I'll try to listen. No. I'll listen. I'll hear you out before rushing to conclusions."
"Mhm"
"I won't... I- I'll-" he felt himself break apart. "I'll do better. I'll be a better son, I'm sorry"
Bruce gripped his hand, soft but firm. Damian looked up, to the profile of the man he adored. A tear track forming from his grey eyes to his chin. "You are great, son. You don't have to do anything better" He tilted his head just enough to make eye contact. "But please don't scare me like that ever again, you can be angry and hate me from home, just-"
"I don't hate you!!!" Bruce blinked, so his tears would fall and unfog his view of the road. "I would never hate you, father. I-" He took a slow breath, hearing his boy struggle for words. "I love you, baba. You... You know I love you, right?"
A beat. "Well, I sure do now" he tried to joke over the pressure on his chest.
"Fuck. Baba... I love you..."
Bruce smiled. How he wished to stop the car and hug his baby. "I love you too, Dami"
Damian gave his dad's hand a strong squeeze for a hug.
By the time they got out of the car, their faces were a mess. Clark watched with worry, doubting if intervene, before Damian ran to his father's side, throwing himself to his arms.
"I love you, baba. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."
Bruce hugged him back. Tight. Giving soft kisses to the crown of his head.
Clark awkwardly turned back inside the manor with a huge smile.
Damian entered the home with messy cheeks and puffy eyes, taking in the smell. He turned around to his father, biting a chuckle at the sight of the man's red nose and just as puffy eyes. Bruce read his expression, fondly scoffing, and ruffling his hair. "I think Clark re-heated some of the lasagna we saved for you"
Damian felt like crying again. Fuck it. He dropped his bag, and dragged his feet to his father, hugging him and burying his face on the man's chest. "Babaaaaa" he can allow himself to be childish once in a while.
He felt Bruce's body shake with a soft chuckle, and another kiss on his hair. "Let's go, love. I think we did great on it, it tastes so good"
It tasted amazing.
Clark smiled and took Damian's plate before he could get up. Bruce smiled from his seat, looking up and giving his thanks to the Kryptonian.
"Kent cooked as well?"
Bruce nodded, still smiling. "I tried to surprise him with my cook, but his Midwesterner self couldn't help but get way too early, so we ended up cooking together"
"Well, my Midwesterner self did a great job, didn't he"
Damian raised an eyebrow "I know that baba is good at it, didn't expect you to be as well"
Clark made a noise of fake offense as he sat down. "Ma would disown me if I dishonored her cooking teachings!!"
"Mhm. Mrs Kent's cooking could easily rival Pennyworth's. And his cooking was the best. No offense, baba"
"None taken" Bruce softened, looking somewhere in his memories. "I wouldn't dream of rivaling his cooking"
Clark cleared his throat. "On the topic of ma." He turned to Bruce. "I'm supposed to visit her. Tomorrow. Uhm..." He looked nervous, before turning to Damian "I'm bringing Jon." He faced Bruce again "Uhm. Would you- Do you want to-"
"Kent..."
"Clark, are you asking us to come with you to your parents' farm?"
"Uh... Yes?"
Bruce tapped the table with a finger. Thoughtful. "For how long?"
"Uhm. A... Month?"
Both Damian and Bruce blinked at him before laughing.
"Clark, we do appreciate the offer, really." He looked towards Damian, who was smirking and nodding "We would love to come with you tomorrow. But staying for a month?"
"We can't leave Gotham for that long"
"And I don't want to ask Dick for a favor, not right now" Damian shrank in his chair.
"But..."
"Really. Clark, we are thankful you took us in consideration. And we'll join you. For a day" Bruce smiled at him.
"Bruce... C'mon"
"Kent. We can't leave the city alone" Damian straightened in his place. "And I agree that Richard needs to... Have his attributions diminished"
"...I didn't mean it like that."
"So we can't have him covering for baba right now"
"That's not why I said-"
"Mmh... Yes. That's... Right"
"No, wait. Don't get confused, that's not the reason-"
"Wait, Bruce. Doesn't Arrow owe you a favor?"
Damian raised an eyebrow. "Queen? You think he can cover for Batman?"
"Not a month, no. But at least for a couple of days? Maybe a week"
"Guys-"
"Maybe. He has turned to be not as incompetent as I thought he was"
"I will pretend I didn't hear that"
"Guys-"
"Even more if he's with Canary. She seems truly capable"
"In that, we agree"
"GUYS!"
Bruce looked at the pair staring at him. Clark tilted his head, while Damian crossed his arms, expectantly.
"... I'll call Oliver"
Damian was done with packing before Bruce had even ended the phone call.
"He'll cover us for at max eight days. He will call me if something urgent comes and he has to- Damian? Did you pack already?" Bruce stood at the room's door, phone at hand and an incredulous look on his face.
"Baba, you're wasting time. Let's go quickly and finish yours so we don't have Jon waiting for us." He pushed his father from the doorframe, and practically dragged him towards his own bedroom.
Bruce chuckled and let himself fall back as dead weight over his son. "Jon? Not Kent?"
"Ugh!! Dad!!" Damian struggled under his father's body, trying to lift them both "There's already a Kent! It would be confusing...! Oh, please!!!" He flopped to the ground, Bruce falling on top of him while laughing.
Bruce woke up to Damian practically taking the door out of its hinges with the desperation he threw it open. With the athleticism only a Robin could acquire, he jumped, falling straight into his father's chest. "Move on, father! The Kents will arrive shortly and you NEED a shower" he screamed before jumping down, allowing the air to return to Bruce's lungs.
"Good morning to you too, son" Bruce sat up, a hand on his back to diminish the pain from the lovable assault.
"No time for that!" The boy answered from inside Bruce's walking-closet. His small face reappeared on the corner as he frowned towards his dad. "What are you doing, go in the shower! I got your outfit!"
Bruce chuckled and walked beside him, softly petting his head before entering the bathroom. Delighted by the short-lived instances that his son allowed himself to behave as a regular teen.
In less than 15 minutes (by the grace of an incredibly anxious Damian practically hand feeding Bruce and dragging their bags outside), they were ready to depart.
Bruce was going through the last details with Oliver over the phone, while double checking the locks on every door, when he heard Damian's call from outside. "The Kents are HEre, bAba!!" He bit his lips to keep the laugh inside at his son's voice break. A small reminder that he was indeed, still a growing boy.
He came outside to see a jumping Jon clinging from his kid's neck, Damian with a fond expression, pretending to be annoyed.
Clark stood behind them, with a blinding smile, proudly watching them. He looked up towards him, and Bruce could swear he saw his smile falter for a second, before waving at him. "Bruce, hi." He got close, pressing a hand over Bruce's shoulder, before closing the space in a hug. "Hope you don't mind, but we took the liberty to put your bags inside the trunk"
Bruce smiled back, pressing himself on Clark's chest as he returned the greeting. "Not at all, thank you." He let go of the man, still smiling and looked at him. He couldn't help the smirk when he saw how Clark was consciously looking everywhere BUT him. The Kryptonian quickly turned away, red on his neck, fingers fumbling with the car's door to sit on the passenger seat.
"Hey!!" Came the indignant voice of his youngest when he realized the copilot spot was taken under his nose. Bruce chuckled, pressing a hand against the brown hair. "Son, why won't you sit with Jon?" He smiled at the soft grumble "If you want to, you can change seats with Clark when we get to a gas station".
Damian's complaints were cut short when Jon grabbed his hand, pulling him inside while babbling about random facts of the animals in the farm. Bruce closed the door, and made a mental note to remind himself to not allow his baby to dress him up again as he saw his reflection on the window. Clearly Damian's idea of "comfortable clothes" was closest to an Italian beach outfit than a traditional jeans and t-shirt.
He chuckled, and entered the car while trying to close the inexistent top buttons of his white shirt. He heard Clark make a low noise that clearly came from the back of his throat. "Seriously? I feel like I should hand you a daiquiri or something" Bruce just laughed, a full belly sound that had Clark blinking stupidly as the Gothamite buckled his seat belt.
"Eyes to the front, Kent!" Clark jumped on his seat when he remembered the company in the back seat. "Keep oogling at my father like that-"
"Damian-"
"Dames, check this out!"
Clark internally thought about what he would give to his sweet boy, after Damian turned his attention back to the phone screen that was shoved in front of his face. Sweet, sweet Jon.
Clark swears on Krypton he did his best to keep the eyes on the road, nevermind how Bruce's shirt pressed against his muscles, or how the neckline deepened everytime he moved his arm on the gear, or how his black hair caught the light, or how-
"-Clark!!" Bruce was frowning at him. Head barely tilted, looking at him by the corner of his eye... Greyish blue irises palling against the sunlight behind brown sunglasses. "Clark, which exist?! You have both of our phones!"
Yeah... Krypton wasn't anymore, anyway.
They arrived at the Kent's after a little less than 24 hours, taking in consideration the gas station stop - in which Damian pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't feel ashamed for not wanting to change seats with Clark -, so they made it with a pretty good window to help with lunch.
Martha greeted them as soon as they opened the car's door. She gave Clark such a tight hug, that made Bruce unconsciously smile at the interaction. He felt the sun emanate from where their smiles strained with love and something akin to regret, they always looked as if they hadn't seen each other in years. Martha broke the hug to look at her son's face. Their eyes shone with unshed emotion.
Where Clark was summer sunshine, Martha was spring breeze. He thought to himself.
She gave the two young boys a big collective hug, while Johnathan welcomed his son, and turned to face Bruce.
Bruce immediately froze and gave a step back, but before he could even think of what he was doing, the petite woman, with strong and loving arms, surrounded him in a hug that carried warmth and love and the smell of spices. He just stood awkwardly in place, unable to lift his arms without disrupting her hug, and let her inhale on his shoulder.
"Bruce, dear" she exhaled and let go to trap his cheeks between her hands, forcing him to bend to her high. "It's been so long, honey. I hope you haven't forgotten about us in all this time!" He shook his head. Shyly. And lift a hand to put on top of Martha's.
He gave her his best candid smile "Never, mrs Ken- ah!" A strong slap on his shoulder and a frown from the woman shut him up.
"Nonsense! What have I told you about those horribly fake smiles of yours and the way you call me?"
"I'm... Sorry?" He blinked twice while rubbing his arm. "... Ma?" He cautiously finished. It was the blinding trademarked Kent smile that told him he did good.
Martha got his arm and practically dragged him inside, while he shyly waved a greeting to Pa Kent. Clark smiling way too cheerfully, given the situation, followed behind them.
Bruce helped in the kitchen. Since he proved to the world how he actually was really good at cooking, he was one of the few people Ma Kent allowed inside her kitchen during cooking hours. So they shared stories and talked about their current life. If Martha noticed how he blatantly avoided touching onto his child's life, she was kind enough to not mention.
Bruce had thought the moment in the kitchen had been fun, but... Oh, lunch was the best. The way they all freely laughed, Damian included (no matter if he tried to cover his mouth to hide it). How they talked comfortably, no caring of his mannerisms or his lack of verbal responses. They just kept the conversation going, including him. Listening when he spoke. Not once did anybody take a jab at him. Not once did they raise their voices if not to laugh.
At some point during the end of the lunch Damian even came to sit next to him, dragging his chair to show him the video they were just talking about. Bruce allowed himself to smile.
Everything was delightful. Everything was so good. So... Not for him.
He was too used to just sit there. To listen. He had believed that was his place, and he thought he liked that spot. It was safe. But here. He was being included. He was part of the moment.
"Baba?" Damian looked up at him, concern in his face. Bruce shook his head and gave him a soft peck on his forehead, signaling him to continue. Damian tilted his head, doubtful, but didn't press and kept the video going. His baby boy was so smart, and he couldn't help but question if he had anything to do with that. If he deserved to have any say on the kid's raising, since he missed so much over the last years...
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the careful nod from Martha to Clark, or how she slowly moved behind him as Damian finished his commentary.
A firm hand on his shoulder, and a soft smile on her face. "Mind to help me with something on the shed, dear? Clark will take the dishes duty" she asked when he turned to face her. He could only nod, avoiding Clark's knowing eyes, as he moved with her outside the house.
Bruce grunted, moving the last bag and dusting his hands off. "Thank you, dear". Martha's voice came from the corner entrance, from where she was standing with a tray of lemonade.
"I think Clark would have done it faster" He smiled, taking one glass and lifting it to his lips and moving to sit in the seat next to the little table where Martha was placing the tray.
"He would have, yes" She sat down, waiting for Bruce to leave his glass to take on his hand between hers. "What's on your mind, honey?"
Bruce watched how her callous fingers traced circles on the back of his hand. He took a moment. He thought it over. And over the thousand plans his brain made to successfully avoid this conversation, he chose to open up.
"There's... A lot, actually. Maybe too much" He looked up. Martha was watching him with such deepness it made his throat hurt. "I don't know how to do..." He pointed between them with his free hand "this"
"This?"
"This" he moved his hand around, towards the house, towards the people inside it. Towards everything. "I'm not used to so much"
"Do you need us to tone it down, sweetheart?"
"What!? No! No, no, no! Please, oh god no!" He desperately lifted both hands, shaking them in the air. Martha smiled knowingly. She placed her hand in front of him, palm upwards, an invitation.
He hesitated just a second before placing his own on top, and she covered his hand with her other palm.
"Then tell me, dear. Tell me what's happening"
"I- I don't know how to..." He swallowed, opening and closing his hand between Marta's "how to be. If there's nothing expected of me... If I'm not... Good. Useful"
Martha smiled, patting his hand. "I know, dear. I know"
"... You know?" Martha's smile turned into a mischievous grin. She tilted her head towards the shed "...oh..."
Martha chuckled "We saw you getting absentee, Bruce. We worried" She took a big breath. "Have you always been expected to be good?" She looked at Bruce's trembling eyes. And let go a shaky breath when he tilted his head, frowning in confusion. "Let me rephrase it, dear. Did your parents ask for you to be good all the time?"
Bruce took off his hand as if burned. "What? No. They never- No!" Martha tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he was already on his feet.
"I mean, there were circumstances. In public I was expected to behave, to represent the last name... But at home? They never. No. They not once criticized me, they barely corrected me. They..."
Bruce sat back, head down, looking at his feet. "I... Can't even remember if the memories of my mother's words are real or not." He sighed. "It's been so long. But I think she once told me- ...she once told there was nothi- that my only job as a kid was-" Martha moved over to hug his head, while silent tears fell to the ground. "I think she only wanted me to grow up healthy. To be happy."
They stood in silence for a while. Martha hugging him. Bruce crying in contained, quiet grief. When he finally stopped, Martha took a step back and placed a hand on his cheek.
"Then why, oh why, my silly boy. Why would you believe you HAVE to give us anything to deserve to take room next to us?" Bruce looked at her.
He knew the moment she figured it out by the way her eyebrows dipped down and her mouth curved on a frown. "Whose words are you hearing, dear?"
Bruce opened his mouth, and quickly closed it, avoiding her warmth, he tried to look away, biting the dry patch on his lip.
Martha closed her eyes with strength. With anger. She let go of Bruce to cover her face with her hands, turning around. Bruce panicked, rising to his feet, arm lifted, trying to catch her. Before he got to even touch her, she turned around, grabbing him by the neck and forcing him down in a hug, burying his face on her shoulder.
"... He was a stupid, stupid man. Blind. Stupid, STUPID. So, so, so-"
"Please" Came a mumble against her clothes "please don't hate him. He liked you both so much. And." Bruce made a shaky wet sound, digging his fingers on the back of Martha's dress. "And he stayed" was a whisper.
Clark steadied his breath as he listened to her mother's heartbeat slow down from her recent fury. He swallowed his own anger, drowning it with the small sobs that fell from Bruce's lips.
He tried to calm himself. There was nothing to do anymore. No revenge to take. Nobody who could take the blame. The Englishman lay peacefully on his own coffin, and yet... And yet his words kept hunting his ward.
He cleaned his face with the rim of his shirt, and took a deep breath before re entering the house.
Damian woke up to the noise of his phone going off. He sat up, freeing himself under Jon's weight. He dangled his feet to the side of the sofa, and before picking up the phone from the side table, he took the remote and turned off the tv.
In complete darkness, his face was only lit by the shine of the phone screen. He took a steady breath and slid to answer. "Richard"
On the other side of the line he could hear a relieved sigh.
"Dami. God, you got me scared here, kid." A chuckle. "Imagine my fright when I came to the manor and you were nowhere to be found. If you hadn't picked up, I was to start tracking you!" A shaky laugh. Damian took off the phone to check on the time and date, frowning, he put it back next to his ear. "Are you o-"
"I don't understand, Richard" he cut him off. "It hasn't even been a day since we left the manor"
"Yes, but-"
"We saw each other two days ago, Richard. I'm confused as to why-"
"Oh! I came to check on you, to see how you were faring with Bruce and you weren't he-"
"Excuse me?" He could recognize his brother was taken aback.
"...Dames?"
"What do you mean to check on me?"
"I mean... I thought Bruce might have gotten angry. He might have reacted badly..."
"...What?" Damian felt dumbstruck against the words.
"I- uh... Damian? What's-"
"What do you think father would have done, Richard?"
"What?"
Damian felt his body go numb. Was it always like this? Did they always talk this way? Had father ever heard them?
"Has father ever done something that would make you compelled to worry about my wellbeing?"
He heard a scoff and his hand clenched the phone "Damian, we're talking about Bruce-"
"Yes. I know who we are talking about, that's the only person I refer to as my father, Richard." Silence "I must remind you I only have one father."
A beat. Damian took a deep breath to steady himself. "I have no idea what had you calling me, Richard"
"...Dami..."
"Has father ever hit me?"
"What?"
"Has he ever neglected me or punished me in ways you consider would endanger me?"
"What? No, Damian. No, that's not why I-"
"Then why, Grayson," he heard the sharp gasp on the other line "do you think this is appropriate?" Silence. "If my father isn't a horrible dangerous person... Why are you calling... Me?"
"I... I don't understand, Dames. What's ha-"
"No, you clearly don't understand. And I have to take blame on that, because I feel neither did I fully understood until recently."
"Damian..."
"Maybe we all need to start understanding. Yes. That's the main issue. Lack of understanding."
"I am... So confused, Dami"
"Mhm. I can tell. Not my place to intervene, though. So you will have to figure it out on your own" he could practically see his brother's brain shortcut. "In the meantime, baba and I will enjoy ourselves. Thank you for calling, but I don't really appreciate your meddlesome concerns"
He hung up without paying attention to the voice calling for him on the other side of the phonecall.
He turned around, and let his face fall on the soft spot of his friend's stomach, waking him up.
"Oof! Damian?!"
"Jon. Do you know where is my baba?"
The fresh air against the heat of summer gave Bruce chills, making the skin on his neck rise with goosebumps. Clark tried to focus on their walking, but Bruce kept stopping, picking something off the ground, and either throwing it away, or saving it in his pocket. Always with this soft smile, making it so darn hard for Clark to keep his eyes from roaming on the pale skin. That stupid, stupid, STUPID shirt. And Bruce's stupid, stupid, STUPID well toned back. And his stupid shiny hair, and his stupid bat eyebrows with a pair of stupidly beautiful gray eyes that looked at him so stupidly -
"Clark" - oh.
"Sorry" Bruce raised one of his stupidly perfectly trimmed eyebrows- Was he born with that shape? Like a joke of destiny? Or he trims them that way? A joke of his own? -
"Kent!" Oh, c'mon.
"Sorry"
"Stop apologizing... Hey. If you're tired you can leave, it's not like you won't hear me if I call for-"
"Nononono! I'm good! It's just that-" I keep acting like a teenager in a romcom and I can't think straight with you next to me "I kinda need to confess something"
Bruce tilted his head, looking away. "You heard my conversation with your mother"
"... Right" Clark you cowardly piece of-
"Right..."
A beat. Bruce took a deep breath and started walking again. Quietly, Clark joined. They moved in silence for a while.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"I want to." He looked at him without stopping, and the air got stuck on Clark's chest with the pure fragility that he saw on his eyes. "I just need to... Find the words" He sighed.
"I'm good with words" Seriously?!
Bruce blinked, stopping his footsteps. And then he threw his head back with a laugh. "Seriously, Clark? You're so bad at this" He cleaned an invisible tear from the corner of his eye, mumbling "I'm good with words, says the Pulitzer awarded", and kept walking.
But Clark was beaming. There was nothing he would ever be prouder of, than making THE Batman laugh. Since the beginnings of their friendship, every laugh he had taken off the man, he it had logged in a little folder on the back of his mind. He trotted next to Bruce, trying (and failing) to hide his smile.
They moved to the back of the terrain, where a small rill, empty by the lack of rain, divided the land in two. Bruce looked down. "After some rain, it fills, and the fireflies love to hang on the weed that forms on it's borders" Bruce kneeled down, looking up at him.
"It must be a pretty sight" he answered in a soft voice. Before turning his eyes back to the rill.
Clark kneeled next to him "Hey"
Bruce took a deep breath, and fully sat on the ground, turning to face him. "Hey."
After a long silence. Clark decided to sit down as well, looking forward. He thought of Bruce surrounded by fireflies. "So-"
"Maybe I do want to be loved- sorry. You were saying?"
"Nothing! Absolutely nothing... Loved?"
Bruce bit his lip, looking far away. Closing up. Dang, please don't close up again, please- "By Dick." Clark let a relieved breath...
"Oh..."
"Maybe- If I feel useful. If they feel me useful. They will love me... I think"
"They."
"Dick... Tim, Damian, Cass..." He swallowed "Jason. Duke. Fuck, maybe Stephanie? God. This feels-" He covered his face with his hands. Clark's fingers itched with the need of comforting him, so he digged them on the ground. "Too much" he mumbled.
"But, Bruce, they DO love you" Bruce looked up. A sad smile on the corner of his mouth.
"Do they, now? Me? I've done nothing but failing them, Clark. Over and over." A hand slide over his eyes, rising and brushing his hair back. "Fuck, Clark. Jason hasn't killed me only because he respects his siblings!"
Clark winced. Of course Jason hasn't talked to his father. Of course. "Bruce, I'm sure that's not the case."
"I've hurt them so much. I've failed them so much. That's the only constant I've been able to give them during their lives." He took a shaky breath "But I'm so tired, Clark" He looked at him with red trimmed eyes. It made Clark's chest tight with pain. "I can't keep waiting for them, Clark. I accept it. Their anger, their resentment. I deserve to take it... But- I'm just tired."
Clark moved slowly, his hands reaching Bruce's shoulders and softly pulling him towards himself, pressing the man's head on his shoulder, his own cheek resting on top of Bruce's hair. "Then take a rest" He felt Bruce's shoulders shake. "A time apart. You think they hate you, I'll prove you wrong. But for now, step back. Rest. Breathe" He unconsciously gave the man a kiss on his hair crown. "Rest, Bruce. The world will survive"
Bruce slowly pulled away, turning to face him, wide eyed. Oh... Fu-
"Father." Both turned to the voice. Damian stood like a little soldier, eyebrow raised. Behind him, Jon covered his eyes with his hands, ears pink. He mouthed a small "sorry", without uncovering his view. "Is it a bad... Moment?" He frowned at Clark's direction.
Bruce raised to his feet, almost jumping. "No! Not at all, Dames. Need me for anything?" Clark cringed. He knows it's a slow work, but hearing Bruce so happy to be useful to his kid, right after their conversation, gave him bad taste in the mouth. Bruce's smile just made the feeling worse.
Damian shook his head. "I need to... Talk to you. But-" he looked down. "Can we go sit? Somewhere quiet?"
Bruce tilted his head, placing a careful hand on his youngest. "Of course, son. C'mon." He turned to Clark, an apology in his smile "Excuse me for a bit"
Clark frowned, sighed and nodded. "No problem, B. We'll talk later"
Bruce turned around, softly pushing his kid's shoulder to make him lead. He caught the soft "Sorry, dad. I should have waited to bring him here", before they got a good distance from the pair. They walked along the rill. Bruce smiled.
"We should come back when it rains." They stopped. "Clark told me the border fills with fireflies and it's a beautiful vie- Damian?" Damian was looking up at him with teary eyes. "What's wrong, baby?" Before he could reach out, Damian buried himself on his waist.
"Nothing is okay, baba. Dick sucks. He sucks, he fucking sucks!"
Bruce blinked in shock. He softly made Damian let go, grabbing his hands and looking around. He kneeled down to his son's eye level and lifted his face. "Baby, wanna sit down with me?" Damian blinked a few tears away and stood straight, nodding. He turned around- "oh... I- wanted to lift you" turned back to see his dad with both arms straightened to him.
He pressed the heels of his hands on his eyes, grumbling and walking towards Bruce. "Nobody can know" Bruce chuckled, rising with his son tugged against his chest. He moved slowly, giving soft reassurances to the teen sniffing on his neck.
When they reached a lay down trunk, Bruce sat Damian down and kneeled back down, searching for his eyes. "Dames?"
"Don't kneel. I'm not a kid who needs Batman to calm him down" He lifted his face, nose red and scrunched. "Sit next to me, Baba"
Bruce smiled, sitting down on the trunk.
The breeze was comforting, making him close his eyes. He felt a small pang of guilt at the pleasure it caused for him the proximity of his son, knowing he was looking for comfort on his sadness... But he could help himself. "Baba..." He slowly opened his eyes and turned to Damian. Green eyes looked at him. The boy opened and closed his mouth, searching for words.
"Take your time. I promise to not get mad"
"NO!!" Bruce froze at the sudden outburst. "Get mad! Get furious!!" Damian stood up and paced around screaming on his hands "Why are you so forgiving!?"
Bruce looked at him, lost for words. He frowned. "Damian, I need you to explain to me. I don't under-" His mouth closed with a sound when Damian turned to him. Eyes shining with anger.
"Baba. I love you." Bruce blinked. "I love you. And- and you might not be the best" He cringed, trying to look away from his son "but!! But, you're my father. And I love you. And you're the best for me. Enough... For me" He tilted his head, looking at his baby boy. Dames was crying again. "Fuck, why am I so emotional today? I can only blame the Kents"
Bruce laughed, opening his arms. Damian took a second, before running to his father's embrace. "I love you too, Dami."
Damian allowed himself to regain composure before untangling himself, much to Bruce's dismay, and sitting back on the trunk.
"Baba. Richard called me"
Bruce took a second, and raised his hand to stroke his boy's hair. "I see"
Jon flinched when he heard his dad's teeth. He shyly raised his head, watching Clark's face contorted in anger, pupils reddening. He took a deep sharp breath and smiled. "Dad. Hey, you're breaking your teeth" Clark blinked the blue back to his eyes.
"Sorry, champ. I was... Rao" He covered his face.
"Dick's a dick"
Clark whipped his head up, mouth agape. "JONATHAN SAMUEL KENT!"
"What?! He is!" Jon shrugged, blinking innocently.
"Oh, I am so telling Lois" Jon paled.
"Nooooooo!! Don't tell mum- wait. What are you going to tell her? I just said his name!" He smiled triumphant.
"Jon..."
"It's your word against mine!"
"Kiddo. Don't antagonize me."
"I'm the child of a divorced marriage! You have to be soft to me by law!"
His dad looked at him with wide open eyes. "Jon!!!" He yelled between laughs. Shocked and amused. "You're hanging out with your Wayne way too much!"
"And you're not hanging with your Wayne enough!"
"... What does that even mean, kid?" He went for a hug, but Jon avoided him.
Jon smirked and wiggled his eyebrows "Oh, you know what I mean"
His dad was red on the face. "Jonathan-"
"Samuel Kent, right. Dad. You're taking way too long. Mr Wayne is super popular, you know?"
"... I am not having this conversation with you"
"But daaaaaad"
"No buts, kid. You're too young for this" Jon laughed and climbed Clark's back.
Clark rose up and started walking to the Wayne pair. "What are you going to do, dad?"
"Mmh?"
"With Richard. That was..." He pursed his lips even if Clark couldn't see him. "Super disrespectful, wasn't it?"
Clark sighed, and Jon caught how his shoulders slumped slightly. "That's- that's not up to me, son. Bruce has to make the choice"
"Mh" he nodded "He'll forgive him"
His dad grumbled. "Yes. Yes, he'll forgive him" They kept moving, the Wayne's silhouettes recognizable now. "Jon?" He hummed back to his dad's back "Not a word to them, okay?" He nodded.
They joined the father and son, Damian kicking a rock to the rill. He turned to face them as they arrived.
"Baba told me about the fireflies. I would like to come back when it's time"
Jon jumped down his father's back and joined Damian, pulling his hand - ignoring the puffy eyes, tear stricken cheeks and red nose - and moving to the border. "Sure!! We can catch a few when you come next time!!"
He joined Bruce, watching fondly as the kids moved away. Bruce was smiling. Clark took a deep breath- "He'll call me" and released it.
"What?"
"I'm sure he will. He has to call me, Clark. To ask me about Damian. I am his father, still" Clark just looked at him. Bruce turned to face him. "He'll call me... Right?"
Clark bit his lip and turned back to the kids.
"Let's hope so."
Clark frowned at the caller ID. "Dick Wayne" he rubbed his face, and turned the phone face down. He waited until it stopped vibrating and lifted it back up. The screen shined once with the new message.
He swiped to ignore the notification and opened the contacts. His finger floated over Dick's name. He pressed once and kept the finger in place until the details opened to edit them.
Another message. He sighed. He quickly opened and closed it without reading.
The phone vibrated again with the incoming call "Richard Grayson". He rejected it. "Can't he take the hint?"
"Daaad?" He lifted his gaze towards his son's voice
"Need me for something?" He answered in a low voice to the air.
"Daaaaaaaaad?" Clark grumbled, raising up and ignoring the new incoming call as he moved around the house. "Daaaaaad!!"
He came to see his son, laying across the couch, smiling at him. He leaned on the entry arch and crossed his arms over his chest. Tilting his head in questioning.
Jon turned to better look at him. "Are you awake, dad?" He smiled.
Clark sighed and walked to stand behind him.
"I'm sure everyone is awake now, Jon. Why did you scream?"
"It's funnier this way" Jon kicked his feet grinning.
Clark looked to the Wayne's room location, smiling. "It seems they got used to you yelling every morning"
"Nah, they're ignoring me... Dad, your phone is ringing"
Clark threw his head back with an arm over his eyes while handling the phone to his son "UUUUUGH! HE KEEPS DOING THAT!" Jon scrunched his nose without taking it, like it was something dirty.
"Dick?"
"Dick" Clark nodded
"Oof, ain't he the worst?"
"Dick?" They both jump and turn to face the pair of Waynes looking at them. Damian had his face covered with clear frustration, and Bruce's face... Oh lord...
His eyes glued themselves on the phone on Clark's hand. "Bruce, Dami. Morning!" If Damian were Kryptonian, Clark would have gotten himself a pretty nasty burnt on his face. "Sorry, did we wake you uuuuup?!!" He managed to grab Bruce mid jump, twisting them both as they fell backwards over the couch's backrest, making Jon jump out of the way with a yelp. His arm extended, phone in the air. He quickly tried to turn them both around, so Bruce would fall under him.
Of course that would have worked on any other person, but Batman.
Before he could twist their bodies around, Bruce took advantage of the clear lack of force used by Clark. He pressed his right hand and left foot on Clark's chest (making him blue screen at the sudden closeness) as the man's back hit the couch's cushions. Using the firm surface to lift himself, he bent his elbows and turned his body, kicking the phone away from Clark's hands with a 'Martelo do chão.'
Hand still on Clark, he twisted it, turning his body with the momentum to propel himself forward against the armrest and catching the phone in the air.
At his back, he hears Jon's "that's so cool!!" And Damian's "of course".
Bruce keeps the movement forward with the phone in his hands and rolls to the ground, raising up to check the caller ID. And he freezes for a second, before cautiously looking up to Clark.
Clark, who has both of his hands up on a surrender motion. Who is looking at him like a victim of a natural accident. Who is slowly approaching and taking the phone away. "Bruce..."
He needs to sit down. So he does. He slowly drags his feet back to the couch.
"He's- for how- how many-?" He doesn't know where to start... What's he supposed to ask?
Why you and not me? You're not his parent, why is he calling you?
Why you and not me? What am I to him? Does he not trust me?
Why you and not me?
He lifts his eyes to face Clark. "For how long?" He asks instead.
Clark sits next to him. At some point the kids had left. It's so quiet. Where are the Kents? "A... Couple of days now" Bruce looks down to his knees. A couple. How long ago did Dick called Damian? Four? Three days ago? "Four days ago he called for the first time. Right after Damian. But I..." Four days. "I didn't answer, so he had been constantly - Bruce!" He feels Clark's hands on his back.
When did he bend forward? It's so hard to breathe. Why is it so hard to breathe? Why is it so hard?! Why is he so hard to love?
He closes his eyes, rising his head, trying (and by Clark's hand still pressed on his back, failing) to steady his heartbeat. He opens his eyes, catching his reflection by the window. Face devoid of emotion. Normally he would think of it as some sort of proof of his training, something to feel even proud of. But now? Maybe this just adds to the list of reasons for Dick's behavior. Who could trust him this way? Even animals know how to imitate emotional responses towards human beings. It's the basic form of bonding. Expressions... But Bruce is just... So...
Clark examines Bruce's eyes, suddenly empty without shine, and felt his chest tighten. He turns his head, facing forward to the nothingness that Bruce is focusing on and sighs. "You know..." He starts, noticing how Bruce tilts slightly his head, paying attention. "We could always run away." Oh, that made him turn. Bruce is fully watching him now. Clark keeps his eyes forward. "If everyone else is keeping their distance from you, why would you keep trying to reach them?"
"Tim is busy"
"Mhm"
"So is Cass"
"Sure"
"... Jason is..."
"... He is?"
"..."
He turns his face to the side. Bruce is still facing him, but now he's looking the space between them on the coach. "Stop excusing them, Bruce. Please" Bruce looks up to his face. "I know they don't owe you their presence. But you making excuses for their absence just makes them look worse." Bruce's right eye twitch.
"They're good kids"
"Nobody said they weren't, see?" He puts his hand on Bruce's shoulder, letting it fall to his hand and taking it. "Stop making excuses for them. They made their choice. Dick clearly made his. So..."
Bruce smiles at him. "I have so many responsibilities in Gotham"
"Delegate them"
"I can't..."
"You have collected and trained vigilantes all your life. Give Gotham to them for, I don't know, a month? And you have delegated Wayne's issues before. So..."
"... The Justice League..."
"I'll talk to Diana"
"Clark..."
"Bruce"
"... I'll talk to Ollie"
Of course Oliver would say no. Clark can't even be mad, the man stood covering for Batman for way longer than anticipated, and he has his own city to worry about for. But he really wants to be angry when he sees the way Bruce deflates, the way he sadly smiles and apologizes. He really wants to tear Green Arrow a new one, but Oliver is in the right here, so no punching coworkers today.
Damian also noticed. He wasn't there for the phone call, but he was there for the aftermath. And he definitely was there when Bruce came to explain to him that the impromptu vacation they had been planning the whole afternoon was going to be cancelled.
Damian wasn't disappointed. Of course. That's childish. He wasn't making this call because he wanted to travel the world with his father, no. It was for Bruce. Bruce and his happiness... And maybe he had a 30 page power point with information compiled on Finnish fauna, because he fucking NEEDS to see a Fallow Deer before dying.
He dialed and the phone barely rang once before the man picked up. "Hey, accident kid"
Damian felt his eye twitch. "Hey, only time dad broke up with someone" he heard the line cut from the other side.
He lifted the phone in rage, but took a deep breath and slowly lowered his arm, clutching the phone. He counted to ten and called again.
"Damian"
"Khan"
"I have an offer"
"Do you, now, little bat?" Fuck he hated the man.
"I can always call Kyle" Damian hoped Minkhoa heard the eye roll.
"Now, why would you do that?" There was movement, meaning Khoa was sitting now, interested in the conversation. "First tell me what you offer, entice me."
"Good word."
"Meaning?"
"I... Will talk to father... About you..." He cringed "in a good light"
"... Do you think I'm so stupidly desperate?" There was something hidden behind the tone.
"Again. I can always call Kyle"
"... Fuck. Does he even listen to you?"
Damian sighed. Do it for the mission. "I am the baby one. I know how to do the so called puppy eyes"
"..."
"..."
"What do you need me to do?"
Bruce tries exactly twice to get the name of the person covering for Batman, before Damian hits him with the "Don't you trust my judgement?".
He can always check the cameras after Oliver goes back to Star City. Also, he was incredibly proud of his son's ability to get a replacement in less than two hours. That meant so much for his interpersonal capacities.