I Have Done Nothing
Aug. 2nd, 2008 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanarillAll day today. And it was glorious.
So, here's a Thing I wrote.
Title: Schroedinger
Fandom: DCAU
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Guy kissing other guy. Also, emotional uncertainty and near-death situation.
The thing about being in love with Clark is-
No wait, that's getting ahead of himself. The thing about being in love was, Batman is fairly certain, that he's horrible at it. He understands that you're supposed to do nice and thoughtful things for the object of your attention, but just what nice and thoughtful things he can do for Clark-ones that aren't just social niceties-is the part where he's stuck. And he's never been a huge fan of flowers, especially when one of his rogues goes ape shit every time some cuts a few for a corsage. Which leaves him inconveniently in love with Clark.
And the thing about being in love with Clark is that the whole thing is impossible from the start, because even if Clark liked men that way, and liked him that way, it would never last. Really. Not jut because Clark is aging more and more slowly as time goes on.
He can't tell Clark, couldn't even hint, because the man is just too damned-himself to let it lie. He'd pick at it, and pick at it, until Batman was finally forced to explain it, and then he'd pick at it some more because. Because. Clark would try to work it out, as if him being in love with an utterly unsuitable alien was something that could be worked out. Assuming, of course, that his Bible-belt roots didn't send him flying away at somewhat greater than the speed of sound.
Batman can't start being nice to Clark without being nice to everyone, and everyone would notice if he started being nice. It isn't Batman's job to be nice. It's Batman's job to make things happen, which he does very well.
But it still leaves inconveniently in love with Clark.
And there is nothing he can do about it.
***
The thing about being in love with Bruce is-
Clark catches himself thinking about it. Again. He's not even sure if this-obsession, this constant distraction-if this even is love. He just knows that it's the most intense, most horrible, most wonderful thing he'd ever felt. He wonders if it feels this way for humans. Certainly, the easy, rock-solid support his parents share is seems nothing like this. Neither does his attraction for Lois; he likes being with her, but he needs to be with Bruce.
And the thing about being in love with Bruce is that even under the best of circumstances, Bruce would probably just reject him out of hand. He'd heard Bruce give Diana the reasons, even though they'd both (all three) known that what Bruce was really saying was, "I'm afraid." Only Diana hadn't touched it afterward, and. He was no more invulnerable than Diana-and some might argue he was more so, since so many knew his weaknesses. Bruce would never admit his fear enough for him to argue against them.
And he's not really quite sure how to bring it up. If he just confessed, Bruce will give him this look that's pure Batman and ask him what he expects him to do.
He's still in love.
And he's going to confess anyway. As soon as he figures out how.
***
Clark has just flown several hundred miles slightly faster than he knows the average human can stand, which is nothing like as fast as he can go, listening to Bruce's heartbeat get weaker as he went. The windburn would have killed Bruce instantly, and as the organic supercomputer systems of his Fortress begin scanning Bruce, he wonders if that might not have been kinder. Bruce is bleeding internally, pretty much every bone he has is broken somewhere, and half his torso is one big burn. No human doctor would have been able to save him. He's really praying that the Fortress can.
The Fortress provides a kind of full body immersion tank, into which he gently lowers Bruce's still body.
And waits.
***
Batman wakes up suddenly and completely, and immediately chokes. The reason he's choking is because his lungs are full of liquid, but breathing in to cough doesn't help because he's also surrounded by liquid. He's not, however, drowning. A moment later, the rest of his body begins complaining. And then he opens his eyes.
O-kay. He's in a tank. In the Fortress, because he doesn't know of anywhere else with that same angular, crystalline architecture. Which means that the plan worked and someone (probably Wally) had gone back to get him out anyway. And he's happy he's still alive, in a kind of oh-would-you-look-at-that way. He suspects he is not thinking quite right, because the world seems rather fluffy and orange at the moment, and the bits of him that had been a moment before really irate have calmed back down.
"Bruce?" says Clark, only it isn't any kind of noise. The part where Clark made noise and it traveled through an atmosphere and then he heard it has been completely circumvented, leaving the part of speech that's just communication.
"Here," says Batman, and the liquid that he's not drowning in is a bit less viscous than honey, but only a bit, and there's no way Clark's hearing this with his ears.
"Are you-I mean, the Fortress said you'd be fine, but-"
"I'm . . . in a tank full of very-orange-Liquid," said Bruce, but this time without trying to move his mouth.
"Really? I mean, it was very brown when it was patching up the hemorrhaging, and then it turned kind of green-"
"Clark." He's getting some kind of feedback, he thinks, from whatever device Clark is using. He knows this because aside from Clark's babbling, he can hear something wordless in the background repeating thankgodthankgodthankgod. "Are we-did we win?"
"Yes. Wally got a pretty nasty burn, but he was half healed by the time we got back to the Watchtower. I think J'onn got the worst of it, actually, aside from you. He said the psychic feedback was, quote, 'very nearly intolerable.'" The thing in the background was still being thankful, and was now also projecting love. Of course it was. There wasn't a man, woman, or child on earth that Clark didn't love. That was the problem.
"Bruce?" Clark sounded uncertain. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"You tell me. How soon does the Fortress say I'll be up again? For that matter, how long was I out?"
"Eighteen days," said Clark, "And you're pretty much ready to come out now, but it has to deactivate the solution slowly, so you have to wait a few more hours. Don't."
"What?" Eighteen days.
"You were thinking about getting out now. Don't. You will drown and choke if it doesn't get to remove the infrastructure slowly." Don'taskdon'taskdon'task.
"Clark, what infrastructure?"
"The-um. Nanites. The whole solution. It's pumping pretty much pure oxygen into your blood right now, but getting the whole system out without killing you takes time."
"I've been out for two weeks, Clark."
"I know. I've been covering for you in Gotham. Robin says not to do that again, by the way." Fondness, affection, love.
"I don't plan on it."
Clark doesn't say anything, but he can hear Clark thinking in the background. The thoughts run along the lines of 'I will kill you if you die, you stubborn bastard.' And more love. For-him? No, it couldn't be.
But it's nice to feel. Batman allows himself to relax as he waits for the tank to unimerse him.
***
Clark watches Bruce on the exercise equipment that the Fortress had provided with alarming speed once it understood that Bruce wanted to work his underused muscles. It's a kind of torture. And he had thought he wanted Bruce before.
Bruce stops moving to drink the nutritionally perfect refreshment, and look at him with those eyes, the exact color as the caverns of this place. "What?"
"Nothing," he says. "Just thinking."
"Right," says Bruce. "Anything I should be worried about?"
I love you. I can't stop thinking about you. Nineteen days ago was the worst of my life because I didn't know if you'd be dead by sunset. I never want to let you leave the Fortress, and I can't stop you. I don't know how to tell you that I love you. "Nothing important."
"I'm sure." Bruce doesn't believe him. Neither does he. But Bruce isn't pressing him.
***
Batman is back in Gotham, which is where he belongs, and he's been off his game all night. More than eighteen days in a tank can account for. There's something bothering him-
No. He's at least honest enough not to lie to himself. He spent nineteen days up in Clark's Fortress, and thank to whatever thing it was that let him talk to Clark while in the tank, he's absolutely positive that Clark is-
What? Looking at him a lot, but that could mean anything. In love with him is what he wants to think but that's laughable. Worried about him, for him, more likely than not. Only.
"Yo, earth to Batman," says Tim, and his mind replays the last few seconds for him.
"Wait," he growls. The gun shipment is there but not the buyer, and he's hoping to catch a big fish tonight.
Two hours later, the big fish is safely behind bars and the guns-the guns are some kind of laser rifle, which means they probably can't just be dumped in a compressor. He sighs, and says, "Clark, I need you."
And Clark is there. "Batman?"
He motions to the guns. "These aren't standard hunting rifles. I'll take one, but the rest need safe disposal."
There's a blur of motion for a moment, and then there isn't. Tim walks over with a gun nearly as tall as he is. There's another blur.
"So, got Supes to do cleanup."
"You make me sound like a glorified janitor-" and the blur is gone again.
"Robin."
"Sorry, Superman. Hey cool, it's powered by-"
The blur gasps and resolves into Clark in the eerie green light.
"-kryptonite!" finishes Tim as Batman slams the casing shut. "Oops?"
"Car. Now." Once Tim went, he turned to Clark. "Can you still take care of them?"
"I do have a lead-mesh suit. Although it's good to know I'll have to use it ahead of time." Then he's a blur again.
Batman drives back to the cave mostly in silence, and spends a few happy hours disassembling the gun. It's really a genius design, and the only really major design flaw is that it has a hard time burning through a piece of tissue paper.
"Clark-"
"What now, Bruce? Some of us have to get up in the morning."
Batman explains that the guns, all of them, work against one person and one person only, and demonstrates that they don't work on him. "And there are probably more out there. There's no way I caught them all."
"So what you're saying is that I should start wearing my lead suit everywhere."
"I'm saying," says Batman, "that you should be careful."
***
Clark encounters the first gun by the end of that month, and watching the jaws drop in the instant before he punches the guy and runs the gun off a few miles, he's really very happy that he decided to put some lead mesh in the bright yellow target he wears.
Then he goes to hand the guns over to Bruce. "Thanks," he says, which gets a grunt.
"I love you."
Bruce's head comes around so fast he can hear the air displacement. "You-"
"I love you," he repeats, and saying it again makes it seem more real. "I-really-I think about you all the time, and I keep listening to your heartbeat, and I think I'd go a little bit crazy if I couldn't see you and I love you."
"Oh," says Bruce, and then there's plenty of subjective time to move in but he feels frozen for the eternity and then-
Bruce is kissing him. Seriously kissing him, and he unfreezes enough to kiss back but time still seems to be running a little bit slowly. Bruce kisses like he does everything else, seriously and deeply and with all of him. And he doesn't stop because he needs air, which is why Clark is the one who has to break the kiss lest Bruce black out.
He reaches up to touch his-tingly-lips. Bruce's are already swelling. "I-really?"
A twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been an attempt to smile. "You. Really."
This time around, he kisses Bruce.
So, here's a Thing I wrote.
Title: Schroedinger
Fandom: DCAU
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Guy kissing other guy. Also, emotional uncertainty and near-death situation.
The thing about being in love with Clark is-
No wait, that's getting ahead of himself. The thing about being in love was, Batman is fairly certain, that he's horrible at it. He understands that you're supposed to do nice and thoughtful things for the object of your attention, but just what nice and thoughtful things he can do for Clark-ones that aren't just social niceties-is the part where he's stuck. And he's never been a huge fan of flowers, especially when one of his rogues goes ape shit every time some cuts a few for a corsage. Which leaves him inconveniently in love with Clark.
And the thing about being in love with Clark is that the whole thing is impossible from the start, because even if Clark liked men that way, and liked him that way, it would never last. Really. Not jut because Clark is aging more and more slowly as time goes on.
He can't tell Clark, couldn't even hint, because the man is just too damned-himself to let it lie. He'd pick at it, and pick at it, until Batman was finally forced to explain it, and then he'd pick at it some more because. Because. Clark would try to work it out, as if him being in love with an utterly unsuitable alien was something that could be worked out. Assuming, of course, that his Bible-belt roots didn't send him flying away at somewhat greater than the speed of sound.
Batman can't start being nice to Clark without being nice to everyone, and everyone would notice if he started being nice. It isn't Batman's job to be nice. It's Batman's job to make things happen, which he does very well.
But it still leaves inconveniently in love with Clark.
And there is nothing he can do about it.
***
The thing about being in love with Bruce is-
Clark catches himself thinking about it. Again. He's not even sure if this-obsession, this constant distraction-if this even is love. He just knows that it's the most intense, most horrible, most wonderful thing he'd ever felt. He wonders if it feels this way for humans. Certainly, the easy, rock-solid support his parents share is seems nothing like this. Neither does his attraction for Lois; he likes being with her, but he needs to be with Bruce.
And the thing about being in love with Bruce is that even under the best of circumstances, Bruce would probably just reject him out of hand. He'd heard Bruce give Diana the reasons, even though they'd both (all three) known that what Bruce was really saying was, "I'm afraid." Only Diana hadn't touched it afterward, and. He was no more invulnerable than Diana-and some might argue he was more so, since so many knew his weaknesses. Bruce would never admit his fear enough for him to argue against them.
And he's not really quite sure how to bring it up. If he just confessed, Bruce will give him this look that's pure Batman and ask him what he expects him to do.
He's still in love.
And he's going to confess anyway. As soon as he figures out how.
***
Clark has just flown several hundred miles slightly faster than he knows the average human can stand, which is nothing like as fast as he can go, listening to Bruce's heartbeat get weaker as he went. The windburn would have killed Bruce instantly, and as the organic supercomputer systems of his Fortress begin scanning Bruce, he wonders if that might not have been kinder. Bruce is bleeding internally, pretty much every bone he has is broken somewhere, and half his torso is one big burn. No human doctor would have been able to save him. He's really praying that the Fortress can.
The Fortress provides a kind of full body immersion tank, into which he gently lowers Bruce's still body.
And waits.
***
Batman wakes up suddenly and completely, and immediately chokes. The reason he's choking is because his lungs are full of liquid, but breathing in to cough doesn't help because he's also surrounded by liquid. He's not, however, drowning. A moment later, the rest of his body begins complaining. And then he opens his eyes.
O-kay. He's in a tank. In the Fortress, because he doesn't know of anywhere else with that same angular, crystalline architecture. Which means that the plan worked and someone (probably Wally) had gone back to get him out anyway. And he's happy he's still alive, in a kind of oh-would-you-look-at-that way. He suspects he is not thinking quite right, because the world seems rather fluffy and orange at the moment, and the bits of him that had been a moment before really irate have calmed back down.
"Bruce?" says Clark, only it isn't any kind of noise. The part where Clark made noise and it traveled through an atmosphere and then he heard it has been completely circumvented, leaving the part of speech that's just communication.
"Here," says Batman, and the liquid that he's not drowning in is a bit less viscous than honey, but only a bit, and there's no way Clark's hearing this with his ears.
"Are you-I mean, the Fortress said you'd be fine, but-"
"I'm . . . in a tank full of very-orange-Liquid," said Bruce, but this time without trying to move his mouth.
"Really? I mean, it was very brown when it was patching up the hemorrhaging, and then it turned kind of green-"
"Clark." He's getting some kind of feedback, he thinks, from whatever device Clark is using. He knows this because aside from Clark's babbling, he can hear something wordless in the background repeating thankgodthankgodthankgod. "Are we-did we win?"
"Yes. Wally got a pretty nasty burn, but he was half healed by the time we got back to the Watchtower. I think J'onn got the worst of it, actually, aside from you. He said the psychic feedback was, quote, 'very nearly intolerable.'" The thing in the background was still being thankful, and was now also projecting love. Of course it was. There wasn't a man, woman, or child on earth that Clark didn't love. That was the problem.
"Bruce?" Clark sounded uncertain. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"You tell me. How soon does the Fortress say I'll be up again? For that matter, how long was I out?"
"Eighteen days," said Clark, "And you're pretty much ready to come out now, but it has to deactivate the solution slowly, so you have to wait a few more hours. Don't."
"What?" Eighteen days.
"You were thinking about getting out now. Don't. You will drown and choke if it doesn't get to remove the infrastructure slowly." Don'taskdon'taskdon'task.
"Clark, what infrastructure?"
"The-um. Nanites. The whole solution. It's pumping pretty much pure oxygen into your blood right now, but getting the whole system out without killing you takes time."
"I've been out for two weeks, Clark."
"I know. I've been covering for you in Gotham. Robin says not to do that again, by the way." Fondness, affection, love.
"I don't plan on it."
Clark doesn't say anything, but he can hear Clark thinking in the background. The thoughts run along the lines of 'I will kill you if you die, you stubborn bastard.' And more love. For-him? No, it couldn't be.
But it's nice to feel. Batman allows himself to relax as he waits for the tank to unimerse him.
***
Clark watches Bruce on the exercise equipment that the Fortress had provided with alarming speed once it understood that Bruce wanted to work his underused muscles. It's a kind of torture. And he had thought he wanted Bruce before.
Bruce stops moving to drink the nutritionally perfect refreshment, and look at him with those eyes, the exact color as the caverns of this place. "What?"
"Nothing," he says. "Just thinking."
"Right," says Bruce. "Anything I should be worried about?"
I love you. I can't stop thinking about you. Nineteen days ago was the worst of my life because I didn't know if you'd be dead by sunset. I never want to let you leave the Fortress, and I can't stop you. I don't know how to tell you that I love you. "Nothing important."
"I'm sure." Bruce doesn't believe him. Neither does he. But Bruce isn't pressing him.
***
Batman is back in Gotham, which is where he belongs, and he's been off his game all night. More than eighteen days in a tank can account for. There's something bothering him-
No. He's at least honest enough not to lie to himself. He spent nineteen days up in Clark's Fortress, and thank to whatever thing it was that let him talk to Clark while in the tank, he's absolutely positive that Clark is-
What? Looking at him a lot, but that could mean anything. In love with him is what he wants to think but that's laughable. Worried about him, for him, more likely than not. Only.
"Yo, earth to Batman," says Tim, and his mind replays the last few seconds for him.
"Wait," he growls. The gun shipment is there but not the buyer, and he's hoping to catch a big fish tonight.
Two hours later, the big fish is safely behind bars and the guns-the guns are some kind of laser rifle, which means they probably can't just be dumped in a compressor. He sighs, and says, "Clark, I need you."
And Clark is there. "Batman?"
He motions to the guns. "These aren't standard hunting rifles. I'll take one, but the rest need safe disposal."
There's a blur of motion for a moment, and then there isn't. Tim walks over with a gun nearly as tall as he is. There's another blur.
"So, got Supes to do cleanup."
"You make me sound like a glorified janitor-" and the blur is gone again.
"Robin."
"Sorry, Superman. Hey cool, it's powered by-"
The blur gasps and resolves into Clark in the eerie green light.
"-kryptonite!" finishes Tim as Batman slams the casing shut. "Oops?"
"Car. Now." Once Tim went, he turned to Clark. "Can you still take care of them?"
"I do have a lead-mesh suit. Although it's good to know I'll have to use it ahead of time." Then he's a blur again.
Batman drives back to the cave mostly in silence, and spends a few happy hours disassembling the gun. It's really a genius design, and the only really major design flaw is that it has a hard time burning through a piece of tissue paper.
"Clark-"
"What now, Bruce? Some of us have to get up in the morning."
Batman explains that the guns, all of them, work against one person and one person only, and demonstrates that they don't work on him. "And there are probably more out there. There's no way I caught them all."
"So what you're saying is that I should start wearing my lead suit everywhere."
"I'm saying," says Batman, "that you should be careful."
***
Clark encounters the first gun by the end of that month, and watching the jaws drop in the instant before he punches the guy and runs the gun off a few miles, he's really very happy that he decided to put some lead mesh in the bright yellow target he wears.
Then he goes to hand the guns over to Bruce. "Thanks," he says, which gets a grunt.
"I love you."
Bruce's head comes around so fast he can hear the air displacement. "You-"
"I love you," he repeats, and saying it again makes it seem more real. "I-really-I think about you all the time, and I keep listening to your heartbeat, and I think I'd go a little bit crazy if I couldn't see you and I love you."
"Oh," says Bruce, and then there's plenty of subjective time to move in but he feels frozen for the eternity and then-
Bruce is kissing him. Seriously kissing him, and he unfreezes enough to kiss back but time still seems to be running a little bit slowly. Bruce kisses like he does everything else, seriously and deeply and with all of him. And he doesn't stop because he needs air, which is why Clark is the one who has to break the kiss lest Bruce black out.
He reaches up to touch his-tingly-lips. Bruce's are already swelling. "I-really?"
A twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been an attempt to smile. "You. Really."
This time around, he kisses Bruce.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 07:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 04:18 pm (UTC)Great story.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 04:37 pm (UTC)I love how vulnerable and afraid the boys are through the whole fic until one of them decides to bit the bullet.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 05:23 pm (UTC)"I will kill you if you die, you stubborn bastard."
Date: 2008-08-03 08:05 pm (UTC)*here via some newsletter, not sure which one, coz I have so many *g**
no subject
Date: 2008-08-03 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-04 04:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-05 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-06 04:54 am (UTC)Oh, I really needed adose of silly-boys-denying-themselves-and-being-awesome right now. This was lovely.
"I-really?"
A twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been an attempt to smile. "You. Really."
This time around, he kisses Bruce.
*dies* Perfect ending. Loved it. I'm running so far behind on the flist but you totally made my day, thank you soooo much.