serendipity. [superbat]

research ii.

Bruce doesn't know what Clark knows or how much he knows, but Bruce knows that expression all too well to hope that he could continue to pretend like nothing was wrong. Alfred steps out and Clark takes his spot, tall, bulky frame looming over the bed as he waits for, Bruce presumes, some kind of explanation. 

"What'd you get into now?" The man asks, arching an eyebrow, jaw set the way it always seemed to be before he'd...gone away. 

"Hello to you too," Bruce grunts, trying to push himself up into a sitting position only for his chest to come into contact with what might as well be a wall as Clark juts his hand out to stop him.

"Who was it? Was it the Joker, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow...?" Clark begins rattling off, eyes surveying Bruce as if he could figure out the culprit if he found the cause of Bruce's pain. 

This is a first. Clark never asked about Batman's business. He knew not to, knew that Bruce could handle it. He didn't need Superman's help. Though, Bruce is too stunned to be mad as Clark casts him with a concerned look that was reserved for people in his life like Martha and Lois. Why was he looking at him like that?

"It was no one. Just -", Bruce attempts to push the hand away only to be met with a glaring Clark. 

Bruce has seen Clark's glare on plenty of occasions, has been the one to stoke his ire on plenty of occasions. He's started a fair share of their fights. Too many secrets, not enough good reasons to keep them. Though, he's never seen him quite like this. Even when they were at their worst, yelling at each other day in and day out, Clark's eyes, while not full of hatred, held a certain level of rage. He wanted Bruce to trust him, to follow him, to not question him. So much so, that it clearly took every ounce of strength he had not to put his hands on Bruce, but Bruce would stand there, unwavering under that gaze...that gaze that looked nothing like this. There was no heat behind his eyes. If anything, he looks worn down.

"I thought we were past this, Bruce." Clark grits out and the outright disappointment in his tone gives Bruce pause. 

He couldn't help but have his reservations but, for the most part, they were. They were past the distrust and constant bickering. They'd managed to come to an understanding at some point, somehow. Bruce isn't sure when exactly or why considering the outcome of their last battle, but they'd managed to find some middle ground. This experiment wasn't about trusting Clark. 

"You can trust me." Clark whispers, like he's sharing something sacred with Bruce.

"Clark, I -" Bruce knows.

He does. He does trust him. Against the little voice in his brain that trusts almost no one, he would trust Clark with his life. He just...he just doesn't trust anyone else. 

"Whatever it is, you can trust me." Clark's practically pleading with Bruce and normally he'd ignore it. 

It would be best if Bruce just kept this information under wraps until he could figure out how to resolve the situation. Even with friends, he needed to be objective. Though, with Clark, he's been objectively awful at making sound choices as of late.

Bruce sits there for a minute and the pain almost feels like an afterthought as he tries to figure out a way to explain his thought process without making the situation worse.

"I was testing some DNA...alien DNA and I accidentally dropped the needle and," Bruce says, dancing around the situation like a kid trying to explain a mess they'd made, "it stabbed me."

"Alien DNA?" Clark asks, brow furrowing as he tries to understand.

Bruce can see the exact moment when it clicks for Clark. The exact moment when he finally understands what's happening and for a moment, he just stands there staring at Bruce.