People always ask me what I like the most about being Superman…

It never occurs to anyone ask me what I hate the most about being Superman.

I hate the fact that there are things in this world that just can't be solved with super powers.

I hate the fact that having super powers makes impossible for you to ignore the problems you can't solve…

Lois keeps asking me what's wrong, and I can't tell her. Bruce forbade me, he made me promise. And I, oh, well, I can't break a promise. Not one I made to a friend. Not one that is so serious. Not a promise that is about…

But it tortures me! It's a dark, oppressive feeling that is eating me from inside, a painful agony. And I can't share it, I can't talk about it, not with Lois, not with… well, I just can't discuss it with anyone. Because, after all, nobody knows. Nobody but Bruce and I…

Last night I visited him in his cave, his secret shelter, perhaps his true home. I don't like the place, to be perfectly honest. It is, after all, a dark and cold cave, so huge and so intimidating – a bit like Bruce himself, I guess. Anyway, I don't feel comfortable in there, and, truth to be told, I never feel welcome, even if I was invited.

That's what happened last night: Bruce called me. And that, believe me, is so unusual that I expected him to be on the verge of death, probably facing a threat that could destroy not only our world but, most likely, this entire reality and a few others. Yeah, because that's Bruce: he never asks for help.

However, I was surprised – more than surprised, actually – to hear that he just wanted me to meet him in the cave. And you know what else? He even said…

"You don't have to hurry. It's a personal matter."

A personal matter. Oh, that's when I got scared. Because, really, of all things, all the amazing things I've yet to see in this universe, and, let me remind you, I've traveled in time and to different realities, the one phrase I thought I would never hear from Bruce was that he was about to discuss with me something personal.

So I flew. And I flew fast. I went to Gotham City beyond the speed of the sound, hardly giving me anytime to wonder what was all that about. Because I had no doubt it was something important, and, more than that, it was important to one of my friends.

Yes, of course we are friends! I know, I know. People still get surprised when I say that. And people who are close to me, like Lois, even ask: "But you are so different…! How can you be friends?" I understand that is quite unexpected, because we are indeed very different people. Not only as "heroes", if you want to call us that, but as individuals. Think about it: who am I but Clark Kent, reporter, married, son of an ordinary and peaceful farmer couple from Kansas? One might argue and say I'm actually Kal-El, an alien from Krypton, and one who holds amazing powers… but no. No, to be honest, I'm Clark Kent. And Kal-El, I guess, and Superman, and that guy with the red cape that saves the day every once in a while, but those are personas that I've incorporated during those years. Inside me, in my mind, when I think about myself, I'm Clark Kent, farmer boy.

Now, Bruce? Well, I guess you'll have to ask him, but no, he will not answer. Like me, I know he has many masks, different faces he uses depending on the occasion. Who he really is? I don't know. I know who he is not, however. I know he isn't Bruce Wayne, millionaire playboy that just wants to have fun and spent his trust fund. I know he also isn't Bruce Wayne, responsible business man that cares only for his Wayne Enterprises. And, surprise, I know, I know that, deep inside, he isn't Batman, that cold crime fighter, brilliant mind but no heart. It's true that he wants people, mostly the criminals, to think he is the Dark Knight and nothing more. I know he is deeply obsessed about his crusade against crime, and no doubt he is the most brilliant man I've ever met. It's all true.

And you know what else is true?

To begin with, the fact that he cares about human life like no one else in this planet, me included. Bruce is the only guy in the world that wouldn't hesitate before putting his life in danger for someone else. And I mean, for anyone. This guy doesn't give himself time to blink before jumping in front of a bullet for someone, and, may I remind you, he has no super powers. He is the bravest man I know. He doesn't fear any weapon or adversary. He doesn't fear any kind of power, not even the one that comes from money, or politics, or any other source. He is faithful to himself at all times, and he does what he thinks is best, no matter if the police, or the president, or even God tells him different. That's the kind of power that I call super.

Finally, I know something… I know he would never forgive me for saying it, but here it goes: Bruce has a heart. I mean it! He does! Well, not that much if he is dealing with thugs and masked villains, but in the rest of his life. Just think about all the people around him, and in how much he protects and cherish them. Just think of Dick and Tim, of how much he cares about those boys. Or about Jason…

Bruce wouldn't agree, but he is a father.

Not to mention Alfred, the best friend anyone could have; or Barbara; or James Gordon; or many, many other people Bruce has helped and from whom he has received friendship, companionship… love? I can only smile to myself when I think about Selina Kyle, the Catwoman, and how Bruce insists there is nothing going on between them.

So, you see, there's more in him than just the Batman.

Or so I hope.

I got into the cave so fast that Bruce still held the communicator device he used to call me.

"I assume Metropolis is having an uneventful night."

It was his way of being funny. I smiled.

"So is Gotham."

It was around midnight, time in which Bruce is usually on patrol. He is very strict about his hours, and I was truly surprised to see he wasn't even dressed in his Batman outfit.

"Taking a night out?" I just couldn't hold my tongue or my curiosity. The unlikely scenario was made even weirder by the fact that neither Alfred nor Tim were around. Besides, Bruce seemed… different. Not only he wasn't in his uniform – and, I must say, he usually makes a point in only meeting with other heroes wearing his mask -, but he looked pale and tired. Don't underestimate him, however: it wasn't something anyone could detect. Actually, probably no one but me: super hearing showed his heart was beating faster than the usual, and breathing heavily; my vision could notice the muscles in his arms and back were tense, something very strange for the man that was fairly known for his ability to remain calm and cool even in the most desperate situation.

"I need your help to clarify something for me."

"What can I do for you?"

I remember, I will always remember the expression that suddenly took his features; his eyes, mostly his eyes. His eyes… were the eyes of someone that is facing something terrible, eyes that showed no hope, just a painful coldness.

And I wondered if that was Bruce's expression as he watched his parents die.

"Bruce?" I called him, and he pressed his lips together as he stared at me, now with an earnest expression. "What's wrong?"

"Can I trust you, Clark?"

I confess the question did hurt my feelings.

"That's a question only you can answer, Bruce."

He seemed to absorb my words, and took a deep breath:

"No, Clark… This is not about secret identities or crime fighting."

"What do you mean?"

He went to his chair – the one in front of the computer - and sat, still watching me, still judging me.

"Look, Bruce, if all those years were not enough to make you trust me…"

"I trust you." He supported his chin with a hand. "The question is: can I trust that you will take no action if I ask you to?"

"I'm here to protect and help people, just like you."

"I know. That's the problem."

At that point, I was really worried. This erratic behavior wasn't typical of Bruce. He wasn't sounding like himself.

"Bruce, what's the matter?"

"I'll tell you", he said in a husky, firm tone. "You must promise you'll keep it secret."

"As long as it doesn't put people in danger…"

"It doesn't."

"Okay, then."

He moved his chair until I was facing the back of his head.

"Look into my skull, Clark, and tell me what you see."

I did, and now I regret it. Like I've said before, the ability to see more than most people is not always a privilege, but can be a burden. I saw, saw everything, saw every detail, and, I must confess, while doing it, I couldn't keep my eyes from going wet.

And I understood why he wanted me there.

"Tell me, Clark; I want to know."

I closed my own eyes, and slowly turned my back on him. Took a deep breath, trying to regain control. I felt my hands trembling for the first time in a while, and I crossed my arms in front of my chest. At that time, all I could think of was that I wanted to fly, fly away, fly to a distant place out of the planet, and erase this new knowledge I had from my mind. I wanted to forget.

"That bad, hm?"

I heard the sadness in his voice.

"You already knew." I wasn't asking.

"Doctor told me this morning. But he didn't know the details. He needed other exams…"

"You should take it." I cleaned my throat, trying to sound more confident; still couldn't face him, though. "The exams, I mean. No one could really tell you anything for sure without the exams…"

"You can."

He was right. I could.

"I'm no doctor."

"You're Superman."

How could he sound so calm? How could he? Wasn't he the one that was…

"How long, Clark?"

"What?" I turned to face him, shocked that he was asking me that, and making no effort to hide my feeling.

"I asked 'how long, Clark?'"

"I heard you!" I remember his expression, the one he uses with me when he wants to show me he respects me… as an equal. Never as someone above him, not as someone more powerful, not as someone that could… could easily…

"Answer me, then!"

"No!" I snapped. I did. I yelled at him. "I can't answer that!"

And I flew. Turned my back on him again, and flew out of that oppressive, dark place. Do I regret it? I do. I shouldn't have done that, no matter how rude Bruce was. I should have stayed. He is my friend, and he needs me.

Sometimes I forget, even I, of all people. I forget that the Batman is just a mask, with a man under it. I forget it even when I'm dealing with Bruce, even when he wears no uniform. I keep forgetting… he is just human.