serendipity. [superbat]

tradition.

Bruce lingers. Not because he's unaware that his body is alerting him there is something amiss, but because he's trying his best to come to terms with what's happening in mere hours. He'd been lulled into the assumption that this pregnancy would have the same gestation period as the average human's. And maybe it's supposed to, but that thought somehow unnerved him even more than miscalculating his own due date by an entire month.

He's leaning against the kitchen counter in a robe and pajama pants, clinging to the surface, trying to breathe through a pain that he can no longer chalk up to false contractions. He'd gone to bed early thinking that maybe it was just another Kryptonian development that would right itself overnight. That was until he'd woken up in a cold sweat at 2 A.M. and had to stop halfway through his trek down the staircase, knuckles white as he gripped the banister, trying to breathe through the sudden surge of agony. He'd stood in front of the dishwasher, chairs suddenly too unbearably uncomfortable, and gone down the Rolodex of possibilities. The thought of a miscarriage blitzes through his mind, despair briefly managing to penetrate through the pain. That is until his body shuts down that line of thinking with a sudden gush of clear liquid that turns into a light stream sliding down his pant legs and pooling on the kitchen floor. 

Oh. Shit.

"Bruce?" Clark calls from the bottom of the stairs, squinting at him from the darkness.

He sounds as if his mind is still clouded with sleep, feet barely touching the floor as he drifts closer. 

"Yeah?" Bruce tries to sound just as casual, but something in his voice seems to knock the sleep out of Clark.

Bruce isn't in the right headspace to properly analyze the interaction. 

Clark's eyes gain a certain clarity that, usually, Bruce would be thankful for, but he's got enough going on without the added weight of his gaze. 

Then, he can see the Kryptonian's nostrils flare. His head tilts as he scents the space before his eyes are back on Bruce. His feet are now on hardwood as he makes his way closer.

Alright, the jig is up.

Bruce is expecting rambling, worried questions that he's too, admittedly, distressed to answer at this particular time. Instead, Clark simply stops and turns on his heels at the sight of the puddle at Bruce's feet.

"I'll go get you some pants, then we can head out," He says before shooting back up the stairs. 

Bruce had conjured all types of plans for the birth. When he'd first found out, he'd planned a c-section and had gotten the cave prepared for it. He'd bit at his nails as he'd tried to find a completely sterile, distant way of asking Alfred to perform the procedure. He hadn't even broken the news of his pregnancy, but he didn't miss the curious looks the man cast him every time he caught something he wasn't supposed to see and hear. Bruce eventually hissed out the request under his breath and ignored the hint of a knowing smirk that it had gotten out of the butler.

"It'd be an honor, Master Bruce."

 Then, he'd woken up on a random, already distressing morning in pain and been told by a fucking ship that he could have a natural birth. After the initial fear died down, the revelation produced looks from Clark, a possible conversation that the man clearly wanted to have. He was biding his time, waiting for an opening. 

"Do you want to have a c-section? We could always have Alfred on standby, but..."

At first, Bruce had simply dismissed it, citing Clark's inherent desire to have certain "authentic" Kryptonian experiences. Clark had become increasingly aware of more of his home planet's customs with each passing day and Bruce was sure he'd stumbled onto some section about natural births in his reading. Bruce, of course, argued back with data, statistics, and safety concerns and watched as Clark caved under the weight of the information. He, unlike Clark, had done the research without the glorifying lens of being a descendant of Krypton. 'Cause Bruce wasn't a Kryptonian which meant that a natural birth created all types of unknown factors.