The drinks come in grubby glasses, delivered right to their table. Kal hangs his head over his, as if the weight is greater now than it had been an hour ago.

Bruce watches him lazily, aware that his water will be stale and he'll still be parched afterwards. No alcohol if he can help it. After all, disaster strikes in any moment.

Sighing, Kal pulls his glass over to him. The liquid could be denser than all of heaven, the way it's dragged.

"Seriously," growls Bruce, flicking his attention away to watch the door of the saloon. "If it's so much trouble, why do it?"

Those incredibly blue eyes flash at him. "There were people in trouble." At that mention, maybe Bruce's companion has gotten lighter.

Bruce snorts. "I didn't mean that. I know why you throw yourself into bullet spray and stupid situations."

Kal hums, and smiles. But it's not a real smile, so much as he pretends to be embarrassed. "Yes, well. Nobody got hurt."

Bruce frowns, remembering the way three of the bullets had echoed through his partner's body. And Kal had barely slowed. The other isn't human, and still Bruce can't get his head around it.

Luthor be damned, the way Kal handled it sometimes Bruce had to wonder...

Not human, but...more human. Always taking those licks with a smile, and trembling over each and every body.

"Why?"

Bruce lifts his head at the murmur, and catches Kal looking at his glass as if the answers are hiding in there.

"Why what?" asks the man in black, annoyed.

Kal shrugs. "Why do you tag along?"

Bruce won't say that it's because he's human too. No...

"There were children." Four of them, screaming for their parents who were trapped in the fray. One had messy dark hair, maybe a boy of seven or eight. "My job is to save the children."

Because he couldn't save himself. Because he hates what Dick had become, so much like him. Because Jason fits a grave. Because...Tim had the same blue eyes.

When Bruce feels the gaze on him, he refuses to look past his slightly filmy water. He's here to save the world, and no matter how much Kal tries...

He knows, Luthor had hinted. He knows how dangerous he is. Who will stop him when he goes off; burning more scars into our sky with his eyes?

"You're a pretty big hero," Kal beams.

Bruce polishes off his drink and remembers what sand tastes like. He wants to push his chair away from the table and depart forever.

Kal had saved the town today. Bruce had really just watched.

These good deeds--selfless acts of compassion and sacrifice, are they truth for Kal, or a way to atone for past and future sins that Bruce can't yet comprehend?

He's a murderer, Bruce. You know that.

"I'm not a hero," sighs Bruce.

Just like you.

The only one who would admit to being a hero is Lex. And Bruce will deal with that when the time comes. Just like he'll deal with Kal.

The man laughs and waves at a barkeep, completely forgetting that his face is on every wanted poster from here to New Miami.

Sometimes, dealing with Kal meant more than magic bullets. "Idiot."