Disclaimer: DC owns everything, except my story and adaption of these characters.
~ Gotham ~
"So, based on what you're telling me," Terry said, "Superman was the greatest hero ever."
"I suggest you stop wasting time." Mister Wayne said, glaring.
"I mean… one of the greatest."
His response met another type of glare, which a myriad of villains and heroes had faced.
"Okay, okay," Terry said, leaving his chair. "Would you mind at least telling me what happened between you two?"
"No." Mister Wayne replied, turning his chair to face the monitor, putting the back of it to Terry. "There is no time for chit chat. Gotham is never this quite." He coughed. "Even If it was, I wouldn't have time to give you a lecture in history because you fell asleep in class."
"Mister Wayne is right, Gotham is never this quiet. But I have to know, or Max will bug me for the rest of the week. Heck, who am I kidding, I want to know too.
"Hey," Terry began, "I don't need a review. I just want to know what caused the rift between you two. That's all."
Bruce did not respond, and Terry sighed, as his words were lost in the dimness of the cave. Turning around, he began to walk away. Nearing the cases for the suits, while he began removing his own, the present Caped Crusader did not hear the voice of Bruce Wayne respond, but that of Batman:
"We just saw the world differently."
He was light. I was darkness. Funny thing, no one believed we could be friends. Somehow, we were. Together, we represented the two sides of the world: Hope… Despair. I saw the realistic, ugly side of the world. He saw the hopeful future, the cities of tomorrow.
We were nothing but opposites in such a strange world. Except people said our differences made us the greatest team ever, even better than the Dynamic Duo. Funny thing, we disagreed about that precise thing, the Dynamic Duo.
"Get them out of here, Bruce." Clark said.
Dressed as the Caped Crusader, Bruce Wayne stood beside Robin and Batgirl. Today, Superman had decided to pay an unexpected visit to Gotham. It was like any of those other times when he decided to try to cram his ideals into someone's head. Even if he meant well, like always, someone, in this case, Bruce Wayne, wasn't listening.
"Robin, Batgirl," Batman said, glancing at them from the corner of his eyes. "Head back to the cave. I'll be there shortly."
The rippling noise of grappling hooks exploding through the air, and then the silence afterwards told Bruce that they were gone. "What do you want, Superman?"
"Nightwing left, Bruce." Clark said, beginning with quick stabs at recent painful history. "Why continue to destroy these children' lives even further? Why continue breaking up your family?
"They need to be here, Clark." Bruce said." Let's face it, 'Superman'; they are better off this way."
"Better off until they get injured, or die!" Clark exclaimed, edging closer. "Bruce, you know how dangerous this line of work is."
"You really should take your words to heart, and be there for Superboy. Instead of helping him, you stay away. Unintentionally, breaking a part your family, your blood…"
"You know nothing about –" Superman grasped Batman by the symbol on his chest. He let go. "Listen Bruce, I just hope no one gets injured or dies," he said. "Not for your sake, but theirs..."
I was light. He was darkness. Funny thing, no one believed we could be friends. Somehow, we were. Together, we represented the two sides of the world: Hope… Despair. I saw the hopeful future, the cities of tomorrow. He saw the realistic, ugly side of the world.
We were nothing but opposites in such a strange world. Except people said our differences made us the greatest team ever, even better than the Dynamic Duo. Funny thing, we disagreed about that precise thing, the Dynamic Duo.
Superman flew through the Bat-cave briefly before landing onto the cave floor.
"Clark," Batman said, when feet landed behind his chair. "What brings you here today?"
"Just paying an old friend a visit: don't mind me," he paused. "How have you been holding up?"
"Fine," Bruce said. "How about yourself, how are you?
"Fine,"
Silenced greeted both men.
Superman sighed. "I just came here to tell you that you don't have to suffer alone, Bruce."
Once again, silence greeted them, and Clark reached his hand to the chair – maybe trying to pull Bruce from the shadows he was keeping himself in – but he stopped. Bruce was always stubborn in his ways of coping, but Clark liked to think he knew him better than anyone else did: Bruce Wayne was screaming and crying, not outwardly, but inside a damaged heart, the heart of a boy who was killed before he even fully experienced childhood, replaced with that of a man who locked up the remains of that child within a new heart, a heart which he refused to open – not with Clark, not with Diana, not with Batgirl, not with Robin, not with anyone.
"Bruce, the league will always be here for you. Just call us if you ever need us."
Once again, there was nothing except silence to that of the normal ear. But Superman, with his super-hearing, heard the soft noise of Bruce's hand moving, and Clark was tempted to use his x-ray vision to unveil what Bruce was holding. But Clark stopped again. He already knew. In Bruce's hands, he was holding the mask of Robin, belonging to the dead Tim Drake.
~ Metropolis ~
"You know how stubborn Bruce is!" Terry said, sitting in a chair inside the Kent household, setting down his cup. "He wouldn't tell me."
Opposite of him, the old Clark Kent sat in another chair, wearing his favorite formal suite, which had a big "S" on his chest.
"Well," Clark began.
"Yeah,"
"We just saw the world differently."
"That's it?" Terry asked, sinking into the chair.
"Pretty much," Clark responded. "You see, Bruce and I just saw the world from a different standpoint."
Terry stood up, shaking his head. "You old guys are more similar than I thought." Then he walked towards the door, as Clark watched him leave, smiling.
"Maybe, but you just will never know beyond that.