Dick was greeted the following morning by the superfluous sound of his alarm clock blaring. Under normal circumstances, the deafening wakeup call would be… useful, if nothing else, but he had spent the entire night before tossing and turning. The deafening roar in his ear was absolutely unnecessary and the fact that it had managed to startle him despite spending almost the entire night watching the clock felt like salt in the wound. He threw back his covers with a bit of a huff and allowed his bare feet to be exposed to the cool wood of the floor. If Bruce's word was anything to go by, today would be the first day of the rest of his life.
From now on, Bruce would be watching him like a hawk, making sure that he went to school in the morning and came back at night… and stayed there. The hurt from the night before's blatant rejection still hurt, but if Dick was absolutely honest with himself, he'd say that he took it more as a challenge than anything else. How Bruce thought that he could protect him from his own obsession escaped Dick. The arrogant, self-centered, selfish… he was getting ahead of himself. There would be plenty of time for demonstrating the fallacy in Bruce's strict prohibition, but now was not the time… not if he wanted to continue playing hero anyway. It would be better to just play along for now. And it was on that note that Dick left the manor for the limousine which would be his ride to school. Play along, Dick. It won't be for too long, you can swallow your pride for now.
While Dick was at school "playing along" and swallowing painful lumps of his own pride, the Batman was falling asleep at the Batcomputer. It had been a long night. What had started out as a routine check on the state of Gotham's underworld eventually led him to fighting off just about every mobster and ne'er-do-well this side of the East Bay. From what he could gather, various gangsters had been disappearing without a trace and they were starting to believe that the Batman had something to do with it. Every criminal scumbag and their mailman was on the lookout for the big black bat, and despite significant bruising both internal and external, sitting in front of the computer was becoming extremely comfortable. Rather than studying the police records he had managed to pilfer from Gotham PD's database, his subconscious was telling him that the night before had earned a well-deserved nap. Now.
Unfortunately, the Batcomputer's proximity alert begged to differ. A red bat symbol flashed on each of the monitor's installed in the cave and the alarm sounded through the speakers. Someone was entering the cave without the deactivation code, and Bruce's paranoid mind stepped in to overdrive. Bruce had removed the protective gauntlets of the Batsuit so his hands were bare as he pulled his cowl back over his face and retreated into the shadows. By the time the figure had entered the main corridor, he had a batarang in his right hand and the control to the batcave's defenses in his left. His sore muscles were taught as he prepared for a fight.
"Bruce?" A deep male voice rang out from beyond the main cavern. The voice was strong, but kindly, and Bruce's paranoia started to recede. "Judging by all the alarms, you already know that I'm here. I just want to talk." The tall figure floated into the room, the tips of his bright red boots hovering a couple inches off the ground. Bruce's body relaxed at the sight, but his heart seized. He grumbled to himself, well aware that the Kryptonian could hear the stutter in his heartbeat as he glided out of his hiding spot.
"There you are," Clark smiled almost amicably, as though he hadn't heard Bruce's every movement. Bruce only grunted in response as he deactivated the computer's alarm. Clark allowed himself to fall gently to the ground. "You've ignored four different hails from the Justice League."
"I've been busy." Bruce carefully focused his attention to the paperwork in front of him. Clark just sighed and walked over beside him.
"It's normal for you to be… busy, but Young Justice is getting worried about Robin." Clark leaned against the desk where Bruce was trying to work.
"You can tell them that Robin has retired." Bruce stepped away from the table and his ally, doing what he could to extricate himself from the conversation. No matter how hard he scowled, Clark refused to leave or let the topic drop.
"You can't seriously mean that, Bruce. I know that you're upset about what happened to Dick… I think we all are. It's easy to forget how much risk we're really in sometimes…" Clark stared at the ceiling with nostalgia clouding over his eyes. Bruce could practically feel his blood pressure rising.
"It's final, Clark." Bruce responded, growing uncomfortable with the silence. His voice didn't carry like it did when he was ordering around the members of the league. Instead it felt flat, hollow even to his own ears. Clark ignored him, partially because he enjoyed how uncomfortable the silence was making Bruce and partially because his mind was still lost in years past.
He remembered the day he had first met Dick Grayson. The story of his parents' death was finally fading in the public's eye and Bruce had recently adopted the child as his own son. Those in the League who knew Bruce were justifiably unsettled. The Bruce they knew-the Batman- was anything but the father figure a mourning young boy needed. Superman was practically leading the outrage brigade up in JL headquarters, despite the close… working relationship he had the Batman had shared over the years.
All of the outrage and upset Clark had felt, however, had dissipated almost instantly after meeting the boy. He remembered standing in the cave, hovering menacingly over the significantly smaller prepubescent, hoping to scare him away from the life he had chosen. Instead of backing down, the lanky middle-schooler dug his heels into the ground and he offered a couple of choice words in response to Superman's menacing. It was obvious to see in the boy's eyes even then that he would never give up, never stop fighting for what was right once he was shown the way. The boy's playful smile only partially covered the obsessiveness and brilliance which shown in his eyes. It was like looking into an alternate dimension in which Bruce had been born a circus performer. This boy would be a force of significant change in the world, and the Batman intended to make him a powerful force for good.
"I know what it's like, Bruce." He received a non-committal grunt in response and accepting that as curiosity, he continued. "You see how weak he is compared to all the horrible things in the world. You know how hard he tries and how good he's gotten, but you're not sure that will be enough… to keep him safe… alive." Clark's gaze on his back caused Bruce to shiver involuntarily. "You'd like to hide him away from the world so that nothing can hurt him, but you can't." Clark laughed, almost self-depreciatingly. "Bruce, this is who he is. The moment his parents died, he became a part of this world. I don't care how brilliant you are at planning and strategizing, he will get out, and whether you like it or not, he will do good. He'll be Robin until the day that he dies whether you let him wear the cape or not." Bruce's heartbeat was loud in Clark's ears. The double meaning in his words had been clear.
"I hardly think—"
"Don't push me away. Please." Clark's voice was soft, desperate. Clark stood from where he had been leaning and walked over to face Bruce. Icy blue, almost grey eyes stared up into his, narrowed only slightly with indignity. He could see each of the creases around Bruce's eyes, the subtle lines of age just barely starting to show. His weight shifted forward to where he could taste the warmth of the man's breath and his fingertips slowly, delicately met the gaunt pale cheek. He stroked it slowly, searching Bruce's eyes for any growing displeasure as he allowed Bruce's scent to flood his mind.
Bruce's pale blue eyes flickered for only a split second between Clark's eyes and his lips for before subconsciously licking his own. It seemed utterly unfair that an alien such as Clark should have such a warm human smell. He leaned in a little closer, the controlling part of his mind starting to shut down as his instincts kicked in. He wanted to smell more… touch more… closer. His head tilted only slightly upward to meet Clark's lips with his own.
His heart seized in his chest and he could hear nothing but the ringing in his ears interrupted by Clark's heavy breathing. His mind only had a second to reel before strong Kryptonian fingers were woven through his hair. Clark's mouth forced his closer, closing any gaps between their lips before his smooth tongue slipped inside. The taste was sweet and only slightly bitter, like a ripe, fresh grape. It wasn't the taste of a human mouth, but it was familiar and intoxicating nonetheless. As Clark pulled him closer, he could feel the powerful muscles tightening around him. His heart raced and his mind warned him that he was trapped. With panic churning his stomach into painful knots he pushed the other man back, hard. He couldn't do this. This is wrong, he thought, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression mirroring his inner disgust. He stared at the moisture on his hand for a moment before he met Clark's terrified expression.
"Get out." He said quietly, his voice cracking.
"Bruce… I—"
"Now. Get OUT!" Bruce was furious and as Clark started to hover back the way he came, he heard Bruce rummaging around in his utility belt. A cold steel batarang hit him between the shoulders, landing behind him with a metal sound, bent at an odd angle from the collision with his superhuman skin. Without turning around to see Bruce's shocked expression, he flew away.