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The stars above the Wayne Manor had borne witness to many wonderful things throughout Bruce Wayne’s lifetime.
Here, high up above Gotham, away from the burning, artificial brightness of the city over which the Batman kept watch, the stars were free to witness it all, their twinkling gazes forever watching over the many inhabitants of the manor.
The stars were there when Bruce Wayne first met Clark Kent, the reporter from Metropolis. The two had known about each other before, and had spoken briefly on the phone to set up an interview about the Gotham Relief Fund, but they’d first seen each other face to face one night, many years ago, at the front door of the manor.
Bruce remembered it like it was yesterday. The tall, broad shouldered Clark Kent, his hair messily slicked back, the light reflecting off of his thick, black glasses. He’d given Bruce a sheepish smile as the two shook hands, and Bruce was immediately fascinated by him.
The interview itself went smoothly, but somewhere in the middle of it, the two seemed to come to a mutual understanding that they wanted to see each other again. For the first time in a long time, Bruce felt truly excited to see someone for no other reason than the fact that Clark was fun to be around. He had only hoped Clark felt the same way.
The stars were there when Bruce had first asked Clark out. The two had met under the cover of night - after all, they had to avoid being seen together in daylight, think of what scandal might come out of the two being seen in the public eye - under the pretense that Bruce had “business matters to discuss.” Said business didn’t involve money or interviews, but rather, a night involving a visit to the opera, just the two of them. And for a split second, Bruce was more nervous than usual, wondering, What if he says no? What do I do then?
But then a smile had crossed Clark’s face, and he started to laugh, a sound that was music to Bruce’s ears, and Clark had said yes. And Bruce learned that maybe, it was OK to be vulnerable every now and then.
The stars were there when the two had kissed for the first time. The two had returned from another late night rendezvous, dinner and a movie this time.
“It was a wonderful time, thank you, Bruce,” Clark had said as he got out of the Bentley. “I don’t deserve all of this, I really don’t. You’re wonderful, Bruce.”
Bruce was about to insist that Clark did deserve this, and that Bruce rather enjoyed spending his free nights with Clark. But then Clark had interrupted him with a kiss, first to the cheek, and then, when the awestruck Bruce regained his senses, to the lips, letting it linger for a moment. And while Bruce had been with women before, he realized that none of them could produce the same pull that Clark had on Bruce’s heart. He learned, in that moment, that he was falling for Clark.
The stars were there when Superman and Batman met for the first time. Clark had figured out Batman’s true identity first, but Superman’s identity had been a harder puzzle for Bruce to solve. He’d only truly learned who Superman was after he opened up about his double life to Clark, and that night, Superman had appeared at his window, nearly scaring the living daylights out of Bruce.
The fact that Clark trusted Bruce enough with his identity as Superman stunned him. Why did Clark trust him this much? How much did Clark care for Bruce that he’d unveil his greatest secret, his alien identity, just for him? Bruce learned that maybe, just maybe, he could trust someone outside the manor with his true self. Sure, Alfred and Dick and Jason knew, but they might as well have been Bruce’s blood family. But Clark? Clark was different. Clark was an outsider, in every sense of the word. Yet Clark had somehow wormed his way into Bruce’s most personal life, and Bruce, Batman was perfectly fine with that.
The stars were there when Bruce and Clark had made love for the first time. Bruce wasn’t used to being at someone’s mercy so willingly, but the way Clark was simultaneously so strong and so gentle at the same time drove Bruce wild. With the starlight streaming in from the window illuminating Clark, Superman, Kal-El, this alien demigod in all of his muscular glory, Bruce realized just how lucky he was to have fallen in love with Clark, of all people. He didn’t know what he did to deserve having Clark in his bed.
As the two curled up together beneath the starlight, Clark had started running his fingers through Bruce’s hair, purring sweet nothings in his native tongue. Though Bruce couldn’t understand the words, he knew the emotion behind each one.
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
The stars had been there when Clark proposed. The two had spoken about marriage before, and if Bruce were completely honest, he’d expected to be the one to pop the question himself. They both knew how risky this was, both for their own public image and for their identities as Superman and Batman. In the end, though, they’d decided that they had enough help from the Justice League with protecting Earth that they could risk this.
It was Clark who had surprised Bruce after they returned home from a date, stammering, “There’s something I wanna ask you.” He’d almost tripped over his own words as he got down on one knee and revealed the ring, a sleek, silver band with a beautiful diamond in the center. As he finally managed to spit out, “Will you marry me?” Bruce could do nothing but smile and repeat yes, yes, yes as Clark slipped the ring on his finger. Bruce’s yes’ were followed by the two flying around the manor, Clark holding him close as he soared, ecstasy running through both of them as they kissed in the night air.
And the stars were here tonight.
Bruce stepped outside slowly, a limp in his step as he hobbled forward. Though he still had strength left in his bones, his body wasn’t what it used to be. He’d passed down the cowl to Damian some time ago.
As Bruce tilted his head up to see the stars, the smiling face of Clark flashed before his memory. All the wonderful times the two had spent together, both as Clark and Bruce and as Superman and Batman, played like a movie reel in his head. Though being themselves wasn’t easy, being around each other made things easier. Clark was an endless spark of light for Bruce’s dark, a miracle from worlds away, an angel who had descended from the heavens to rekindle the fire of hope in Bruce’s heart. No one had ever taught Bruce as much about life as Clark did.
Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get Clark’s smile out of his mind. He gulped back the lump in his throat as he balled his hand into a fist, feeling the ring still on his finger.
Reluctantly, Bruce turned his head back to the sky. A shooting star streaked above him, and a glimmer of hope flickered in Bruce’s chest. Maybe it was Clark, coming to tell him, “Bruce, how I missed you, it’s been so long, I hope the family haven’t been giving you any trouble.”
But then it disappeared, and the flicker of hope dimmed once again.
“God,” Bruce whispered, “or whoever’s up there, can you tell me, where is Clark? Where has he gone?”
Only silence echoed back at him, no heavenly words speaking to his ears or his heart with any sort of insight. Bruce’s fist clenched tighter as he shouted up at the sky, “Come on, tell me, where is he? He’s been gone for so long, I still have more to say! Is he back up there with you? Where is he, please!”
If the stars knew, they didn’t answer. They just stared back at down at Bruce, unblinking in the cloudless sky.
Bruce sighed and lowered his fist, shaking his head. He kept his head down as he limped back into the manor and shut the doors behind him, leaving the stars to their lonely vigil over the manor once more.