serendipity. [superbat]

remembrance.

a/n: sorry for any typos. will fix soon. xo

Bruce insists on supervising Clark. Whether he be building a shelf or plugging in a lamp, Bruce is shuffling around behind him, hand on his lower back as he silently watches Clark fiddle with the pieces. At first, Clark thinks it's a lack of trust. It's Bruce's "nest" they're creating and he wants to make sure that everything is done to his liking. However, by the third piece of furniture, with no real input from the man, Clark realizes it's something much more sweet and innocent. He watches as Bruce settles into the new oak wood rocking chair in the corner of the nursery and silently observes Clark putting together a dresser. Usually, Clark would fall into a rhythm, but he can't help but hone in on the way Bruce makes himself comfortable with a blanket across his lap. He just wants to spend time with Clark. He only gets up from the rocking chair to toddle to the kitchen and get a snack before plopping back down to watch Clark work. 

Usually, this was Bruce's thing. He would be the one putting something together down in the Batcave or in the Hall. He'd tinker away and Clark would find some excuse to perch next to him, watch him work.

Once a shelf is in one piece, Bruce starts to arrange stuffed animals on top of it but stops when he notices that Clark is leaving the room. He only turns back to his organizing when Clark explains that he's just throwing out the box the shelf came in. 

They move through the house like that, Bruce only tossing in his two cents when it comes to hanging up a couple of framed photos. Most of them are from Clark's apartment. Pictures of him and Ma, one of Pa, some of just him growing up with various friends, one of Clark with Lois and his other former colleagues in front of the Daily Planet. 

There weren't any of Bruce. None of him and Bruce together. Even though he'd spent the last year practically glued to the man, there was nothing to document it. 'Cause Bruce didn't really do pictures. He'd awkwardly stand there while Barry snapped a photo of the league members huddled together, but he wasn't one for casual photography. 

Bruce only offers up one photo. It's of a younger Bruce and Alfred. They're posed in front of the house Bruce grew up in. Bruce's eyes look distant, completely disconnected from what's happening around him. Their expressions are sullen. It's quite the pitiful family photo, but Clark hangs it without a word. 

However, at the realization, Clark wants. He wants something that cements how far they've come. Clark is itching for just one picture of pregnant Bruce perched up on the couch or their bed being captured the way Clark sees him. He wants one of Bruce's rare smiles where he knows only Clark is watching. He wants one of Bruce and Binny out by the duck pond, Binny dutifully watching the chicks because she was convinced they couldn't swim. One of her with her newfound habit of snuggling up next to Peanut to nap. He wants one of Ma and Bruce sitting at the kitchen table as Ma gossips to Bruce about 'what the girls were up to'.

He didn't want the only documentation of the man he loved being on this Earth to be a dreary image of him and his Butler in front of a house that no longer exists. 

1.

The first photo he takes is of Bruce in front of the stove, a spoon in one hand and onion powder in the other as he casually chats with Dick about something mundane. He's dressed in one of the many oversized sweaters that Kara had brought for him on her last visit. Dick's showing Bruce some gadget he'd whipped up and Bruce is just quietly listening, offering advice when prompted. 

"Yeah, so when I finished that, I made Coco this," Dick says, holding up something in front of the camera so Bruce could see it. 

Dick had taken to calling Conner "Coco" and Bruce seems to have given up on protesting the nickname.