EXTRA
.
.
.
— Excuse me Mr. Wayne, would you have a few minutes for an interview for the Daily Planet? — Clark Kent, with his notebook in hand, chased the millionaire through the Neurology Clinic cafeteria.
— ... No — Bruce murmured, going over to one of the snack machines.
— I know your son is hospitalized here, which contradicts his last interview mentioning a summer camp in... — Before the journalist managed to continue doing his job of harassing Bruce, he watched his friend punch the poor machine while trying to catch some thing. The others in the canteen simply ignored it, as if it were something routine — Want help?
— No! — Bruce tried again.
— ... Are you sure, Mr. Wayne?
— I want the fucking cereal bar! Can you catch her!? Can you do it!?
Of the few and extremely rare times that Clark saw his friend in that state of nerves, there was little to do. The journalist just gave a "little push" and caused one of the bars to fall - perhaps it would improve the climate.
— So, Mr. Wayne, can we have a conversation now? At least while you... — While he was talking, Bruce was walking away towards the elevator. Clark was forced to go after him to get something out, and luckily the cabin was empty — Bruce, can you at least answer what is going on?
— No.
— Bruce, Jon saw when you arrived and really worried me. I know that part of what he said must be just imagination, but if Damian is here it means that...
— Turn the reporter side off a little — Bruce practically ordered, stuffing the bar into his mouth at once.
The journalist watched him as he tried to understand all that reluctance. Wayne was worn out, visibly dejected, anxious and probably sleepless since he first set foot in Metropolis - three days ago.
— He'll be fine? — Clark asked as a friend, trying to keep positive thoughts.
— ... Nobody knows. — Bruce murmured closing his fists hard enough to knock out whoever received that blow - he wanted to hit himself in the face, he was considering himself the worst of villains for what he let happen to his son. He stared at the ground, he didn't have the strength to deal with the "symbol of hope" when he himself no longer had it.
The two were silent.
Super, who at that moment felt completely useless there, was surprised when his friend rested a hand on his shoulder. It would be a completely normal act due to the circumstances, but knowing his best friend as well as Kent claimed to know the bat, he knew it was a bad sign - blurred vision.
— ... Can... — Clark stopped, it took him a few seconds to continue: — Can he die?
The elevator opened.
They were on one of the top floors of that neurological institute outside Metropolis. Years ago, that study center started to function as a clinic for special cases, which did not prevent it from being an exquisite place and up to the Wayne. Damian was in one of the largest rooms, curiously the only occupied bed on that floor.
— If you just keep looking, the elevator doors will close — Bruce murmured in disgust.
— Alfred knows that you have high blood pressure like that? — Super asked trying to control himself not to giggle: the "invulnerable" Batman shows up as a "blind bat".
— Why? Are you going to tell him?
— The last time you were like this, the Earth was under...!
— Does not matter. — interrupted him, continuing shortly afterwards: — What matters to me is my son, my pressure I deal with later. The rest of the world: the Justice League takes care.
Clark Kent, again letting his journalistic side come to the fore as he took his friend down the hall in slow steps, began:
— I already have the title of my article: "Father of the year has a heart attack trying to take care of his son", a really new experience for you... No! It's not flashy enough! How about this: "inconsequential father died leaving his children orphans", hun? — without being able to control himself, he ended up giving one of his stupid smiles and continued: — Poor Alfred, needing to pretend he hasn't noticed his condition yet... he must also be on the verge of a nervous breakdown!
— You never shut up? — Bruce kept his tone cold, did not see the slightest grace in that situation — I don't know how you managed to become a reporter with such bad titles.
— I think it's the glasses... Louis always says that I talk more when I wear them — He smiled again, ignoring the pins. — It's just too new what is happening: you are acting like a worried father, a worried Batman.
— If you understood the seriousness of it all... — He murmured, with no patience for further explanations. Alfred was better at dealing with people, he just wanted to deal with his son.
The two returned to silence: Bruce did not want to say anything else and Clark started to think about what he had said - this was not the time, let alone the place to try to be the "good-natured friend", despite the refusal to reply always indicate and indirectly that everything would be fine.
When they finally arrived in front of the bedroom door, Clark opened it for his friend - he deemed it necessary, since the two times Wayne took his hand in an attempt to open it, he missed the handle. As soon as they entered, they came across a scene that managed to break any expectation:
In that large and refined room, Damian seemed to draw something with systematic and repetitive movements. Beside him, Alfred was stroking Jonathan's rebellious hair, a boy who still had tears in his eyes.
— He will be fine soon, no need to worry... — The butler tried to sound optimistic.
— Jon!? — Clark practically ignored his friend who still needed some help and went to his son — How did he get here? I asked to wait for me in the car... Son, what's wrong? — With the lack of answers, he turned to the only one who should have known the answer — What happened, Alfred?
— ... Damian, he... — the butler sighed, he was visibly tired.
— Another crisis? — with his voice showing how worried and frustrated he was, Bruce asked taking devious steps until he managed to reach his son. Blurred vision was not enough to stop him in that situation.
— Exactly — The oldest among them agreed, staring at the floor — It started less than two minutes ago, when young Jonathan came in to find out how his friend was doing.
— I didn't mean it! I-I just wanted to see him, but... but... — the youngest tried to explain himself, but he felt so guilty that he cried again before he managed to speak another word. He was living up to the nickname "crybaby", a nickname that Damian had not yet used.
The journalist straightened his glasses and looked at the other child. Damian continued to scribble his sketchbook, literally scribbling. The look was lost in the most complete nothing, while he continued to make a sequence of streaks across the sheet.
— Young Jonathan came in through the window. — the butler finished the explanation, making it clear why his favorite child was in that state.
— Jon...! — Clark, taken by the uncertainty and anguish of the moment, ended up scolding his son - as much as wanting to see his friend was something normal.
— He didn't want it — Bruce intervened, without really paying attention to that family conflict. He just didn't want to make the atmosphere in that room worse, which consequently could worsen his son's condition — Damian is going through a delicate situation, which no one needs to know about. My son just needs peace of mind.
— ... When you say no one, is it really no one but those who already know? — Clark straightened his glasses, trying to keep the reporter side at rest.
— Yes.
— W-will he be fine soon? — Jon asked in a choked voice.
— We still don't know much about Epilepsy, — Alfred replied.
— Bruce... — Superman looked for a word that could comfort his friend, but he couldn't find it.
— I can already handle it better — he replied, carefully taking the sketchbook and pencil out of Damian's hands — My son is epileptic — He said, hugging the little one so that he still allowed the repetitive movements to continue — I cannot help he, not even you can, Clark... nobody can.
.
.
.
NOTE
.
Clark Kent, what about this super friend? If you don't know him, I'm sorry, but I don't even know how to explain what Superman would be. It was one of, if not the biggest, motivator of the growth of the comic book industries in the USA and, consequently, in the rest of the world. It served as a symbol of hope for the post-war period and is still seen today by its readers: a symbol of the hope that everything will be fine (something we need, right? Kkkks).
He is Bruce's best friend. In fact, did you know that in the Rebirth, the Super destroyed Batman's moon cave? You have no idea how many jokes I made of it! Kkks.
As a civilian, Clark Kent works as a reporter for the Daily Planet newspaper, where he met his wife, professional colleague, Lois Lane. Both had a son, the lovely Jonathan Samuel Kent (Jon).
If Clark and Bruce are friends, why shouldn't their children be too? And so, Damian and Jon formed a more than perfect pair in the adventures of the Super Sons (Rebirth). They are my darlings!
Note to Note: Christopher Reeve, an actor who personified Superman in theaters and is still remembered for his brilliant acting (he didn't just wear glasses as a disguise) was a real hero with his campaign to release stem cell research.